#I should be able to do Mat before the premiere

[flo-n-flon]

Perrin Aybara, blacksmith, Goldeneyes

[octuscle]

Tim and Tim swap lives

When he started his traineeship at the local newspaper, Tim had rather hoped to report on exhibition openings or opera premieres for the feature section. That was more his world. But his first job was an interview with a heavy-metal singer who had become a bit of a has-been. The singer had made headlines recently for his marital violence and his drug and alcohol excesses. Tim had had a fetish for heavy metal in the past. Sweaty singers in tight leather pants. To the Twisted Sisters video of "We're not gonna take it" he had jerked off more than once. Good suburban boys who become rock stars. That had already been to his liking. But everything he'd researched about his interviewee beforehand indicated that he'd been hot a long time ago. Now his best days were long gone. Oh well, it was a job. And he was just the volunteer. He had probably also been chosen only because the singer's name was also Tim.

For the interview, Tim had picked out some hopefully suitable clothes from his brother. And so he waited in the backstage area to finally be able to conduct the interview. The manager had led him to the dressing room, put a Coke in front of him, and walked out angrily ranting. "Where is that drunken piece of shit again?" heard Tim yelling him. After more than an hour, the door opened and the band's lead singer staggered through the door. He grunted something like a hello and disappeared directly into the restroom. Tim heard his interview partner vomit first. And then snore. Tim carefully opened the door. And the singer was lying in a puddle of vomit and urine, blissfully asleep. Shit, what was he supposed to do now? Wake him up? Seemed inappropriate to him. So Tim did something he should have done an hour ago: He answered his own written questions himself.

Question: They say your career is over. What do you plan to do to get back to your old successes?

Answer: Over? Now it's just getting started. I've been sober for a year, eat healthy and spend every free minute in the gym. I'm far from being at the end.

Energy coursed through Tim's young body. His muscles grew visibly.

Question: But financially you are at the end. Is it true that the private bankruptcy had to file?

Answer: Fuck, I've spent a lot of money on shit in the last few years. The tattoos alone have cost me a fortune. And I've had bad advisors. But with my new manager, things will pick up again. I also have a responsibility for the band, which is my family.

Tim's flawless skin began to discolor in various places. Tattoos formed and began to cover his entire upper body.

Question: Why this late change of heart? You've been in the business for decades, right?

Answer: Decades? Kid, you're exaggerating. I've been living heavy metal body and soul since I was 16. That's not even 20 years.

Tim aged in seconds. He was no longer 22 but 34. His hair had grown into a long mat. His skin definitely showed traces of many excessive parties. But he still radiated a lot of energy and masculinity.

Question: A final private question: What do you say to the accusations of violence against your wife.

Answer: (Loud laughter) Are you kidding me? I married that bitch for the press. Never touched her. For years I've only fucked the asses of hot reporters like you.

Of course Tim couldn't write it like that. No one would believe it. But only snoring continued to come out of the toilet. Tim didn't think he would be able to do the interview. He pressed save and closed his laptop. At that moment, he heard the toilet flush. His young and crisp interview partner came out. "Any more questions, boy?" he asked. "No, thank you very much for this very frank interview. I wish you all the best as you restart your career." replied the lad from the local paper. Tim had needed to get that off his chest. That felt good. Now the tour could go on. But before he went on stage, he desperately needed to relieve some pressure. "All the best to you, too, boy. Now come and get your reward, groupie." Tim unbuttoned his leather jeans. And the other Tim got down on his knees.

The concert was a huge success. A legend was back. But the sensation was the article by a young local editor about the singer's coming out.

[eagles-translated]

"Eagles 2022 – Everything about the final season"

This is a translation of a Swedish blog post which you can find here. I don't know if this is an SVT-approved article, but it basically recaps the plot points from last season and gives a run-down of what will be explored in season 4.

Most of it aligns with the season 4 episode descriptions but also confirms additional details, so if you'd rather go in blind when the season premieres I would ignore this post!

At the end of the article I've written a short paragraph of my personal thoughts.

Friday the 28th of January is the premiere of the fourth and final season of Eagles on SVT Play. The final season will touch on how to take command of your own life, orthorexia, and what to do when the life you've gotten used to is shaken up and a new chapter begins. Who gets their dreams fulfilled? Who was shot on New Year's Eve? And will Ludde and Felicia have a happy ending?

The synopsis for Eagles season 4

The last semester of high school has begun and everything should be fantastic. However, the characters are instead faced with transformative events and life choices. Felicia (Alva Bratt) is in rehab after her suicide attempt and she just wants to focus on her well-being and graduate. But the person she needs the most to be able to move on is not there. For Ludvig (Adrian Öjvindsson), the weight of the shooting between Jack (Filip Wolfe Sjunnesson) and his brother Andreas (Oskar Laring) weighs heavy on his shoulders.

Amie (Yandeh Sallah) tries to find the balance between her music career and just being herself. But her record label has completely different plans in mind. Amie and Elias (Edvard Olsson) are also at the beginning of their relationship, but Elias has a completely different focus. He trains manically, keeps a strict diet, and is completely engrossed in achieving his hockey dreams. Whatever it may cost.

Klara (Sarah Gustafsson) feels like she carries the whole of Oskarshamn on her shoulders. The GECED company will be closed down and a large portion of the jobs in town will disappear. Now it's up to Klara to prevent that.

Eagles has been, and will also end, as a drama series about the life choices and emotions teenagers experience. Among these things are first love, friendships, betrayal, and dreams about the future.

SVT Play Friday 28 January at 02.00. The episodes are published in pairs every Friday.

For those who missed the three previous seasons, or want to catch up before the premiere, the episodes can be watched on SVT Play.

The cast in Eagles 2022

Felicia – Alva Bratt Ludvig – Adrian Öjvindsson Amie – Yandeh Sallah Elias – Edvard Olsson Klara – Sarah Gustafsson Naima – Tina Pour Davoy Andreas – Oskar Laring Jack – Filip Wolfe Sjunnesson Mats – Per Lasson Petra – Anna Sise Leila – Charlotta Jonsson Irene – Maria Alm Norell

Source: (x) Posted on January 19th, 2022 by admin

—

There's a lot to unpack here, so I'll just go in chronological order and try to keep my thoughts brief.

First off, if the information in this article is accurate, that means the writers are actually going for an eating disorder storyline with Elias. We knew they were doing something with Elias as we had one scene of him overworking himself in the gym and another scene with Mats commenting on the fact that Elias mostly consumes powdered nutrients instead of real food.

I think a storyline like this has potential to really educate the audience. First off, orthorexia nervosa isn't something that's seen that often on TV. On top of that it's even more rare to show a male character with an eating disorder. I'm really interested to see how this will play out, maybe with the focus shifting a little from Felicia's mental health to instead focus on Elias's which has mostly been a question mark throughout the first three seasons.

Speaking of Felicia, the article mentions that she's out of rehab and that the person she needs the most isn't there. This could be either Ludde or Elias, but I'm leaning more towards Elias since he's her brother. Based on the episode descriptions we also know that when Felicia gets home from rehab, Elias is supposedly out partying.

They're keeping the details on the Andreas and Jack situation pretty hush-hush, but that's understandable.

As I've speculated before, Amie and Elias are probably heading for a rough patch now that we know Elias's focus lies more with his training.

This article also confirms that the GECED company is shutting down, but we'll see Klara try to prevent that.

The last thing I'd like to comment on is the cast list. Pretty standard, right? I'm not so sure. After listing the five main characters, there's an additional name wedged between Klara and Andreas (both pretty major characters). That name is Naima, played by an actress called Tina Pour Davoy. It seems that she'll have a significant role to play if she's included in the cast list. Just what that might be remains to be seen.

If you guys have any theories on what this might bring to the table in season 4, I'm very eager to hear them!

[tommybaholland]

Working Hard Or Hardly Working? | tom holland x reader

(beefcake bby image is not mine)

Summary: the one where you’re struggling with working on your body, but tom isn’t far behind

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: body image issues, swearing, the fluffiest shit ive written in a min

———————————

“3, 2, 1 REST…”

“Next up, spiderman plank!” 

You groaned as the automated voice instructed you to assume the position. And yet, you proceeded to push through the exercise in hopes that one day, it would be easier. But for right now, you sigh and grunt through every tense muscle and that ache in your lower back.

Tom watched you from a few feet away as he was doing a cooldown run on the treadmill. He has to admit, he was a bit amused with your frustration at the gym. You both used to exercise together, but lately you’ve been preoccupied with this app that tells you what to do, and you do it. You had gotten a head start getting back to the gym after the premiere of Far From Home and downloaded it to help give you direction on what to do for what you wanted to work on. And for you, it was probably the best thing you did. 

Also the fact that Tom is one of the most competitive people you’ve ever met. 

That didn’t bother you, usually. 

But he couldn’t help but notice your attitude at the gym has changed since the press tour ended. You’d been wanting to do your own routine more often, only offering to warm-up and sometimes cooldown routines with Tom. So he allowed you to do your own thing, and would on occasion tease you with, 

“S’okay babe, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle my routine anyway,” while flexing his muscles, which you knew has become thicker and more defined since before Far From Home had begun shooting. 

He honestly couldn’t complain though, watching you and that ass throw down some squats had never been better.

Other than you doing your own thing at the gym, you also seemed more aggressive with the workouts. When you and Tom first came to the gym together, you would just do some cardio on the elliptical or the treadmill and then finish with some yoga. But now you seem more committed and will do HIIT routine after routine and even lift weights some days as well. 

He had also noticed your eating habits had changed drastically as well. He couldn’t remember the last time you had both eaten the same meal. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time you had eaten, in general. You just didn’t seem to want to enjoy the usual things you and him would indulge in lately. He minded wandered to last night, when you turned down a legendary pastime you and him would take part in from time to time. 

“What kind of pizza should we order?”

“Oh, uh, I’m actually not that hungry.”

“What?” Tom questioned in disbelief. “You’re still drinking though, right?”

You shook your head. “No, sorry. I think I’m going to just have water.”

“You’re kidding, right? You love our beer and pizza nights,” Tom replied, in disbelief.

“You can still order it and we can still watch something!” You reiterated. “I’m just––taking a break from pizza and beer.” 

Something seemed off to him. Normally, he just brushed it off, thinking that you missed being active and wanted to catch up. But your mood and behavior didn’t seem right to him. 

Frankly, you didn’t look very happy.

You had finished your last exercise, and were left panting and dripping with sweat. You took a sip of water before getting a disinfectant wipe to wipe down your yoga mat. Tom stepped off the treadmill as you finished cleaning your mat, calling over to you.

“Ready to go soon, love?” 

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. Your heart was racing, and your muscles felt thoroughly worked, despite that you skipped some exercises or took more breaks during the hard ones. 

As Tom was putting away some of the free weights he has used, you decided to weigh yourself on the scale in the gym. You took a deep breath before stepping on the scale, something you always did, calling it the “moment of truth.” 

Standing up straight and sucking everything in, you looked down at the numbers to see your fate. 

No change. 

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You didn’t gain weight, but nothing had been lost either. You sighed, rubbing over your face and through your sweaty hair before stepping off and putting your shoes back on. 

Grabbing your stuff, Tom rejoined you at the front of the gym, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his side, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

He quickly pulled his hand off of your arm, rubbing the excess moisture onto his shirt. 

“You’re quite sweaty,” he chuckled. “A bit smelly, too.” 

You gave him a small chuckle and smile, humoring him. But it wasn’t as big of a reaction as he normally would get from you. 

The ride home was silent between the two of you. Tom posted on his insta story for the thousandth time about Far From Home while you sat in the seat adjacent to him, dealing with your own business.

Leaning your cheek on your hand that was propped up on the window by your elbow, you looked at the graph that the app had created with all the data points you had entered for your weight. 

You tried to weigh yourself everyday, or almost every day, once reading somewhere that people who weigh themselves regularly have more motivation and therefore, lose more weight. You’d been committing yourself to working out everyday and trying to make healthier choices for about a month now and you would’ve thought you’d see a small difference in the numbers. 

But the graph didn’t show that. 

The trend was an absolute mess, with hills and plateaus everywhere. It was disappointing and frustrating to you. And it wasn’t just about looking good,

It was about feeling healthier about yourself. 

It almost made you feel like you weren’t allowed to have that. Tom worked hard and trained enough to make his body “Spider-Man ready” but he was also naturally athletic. His body was practically made to look like that.

You, however, are soft and round with some strong build. It was just extremely hard to get that build to show. 

Upon arriving back to Tom’s apartment, he went straight to the kitchen to make his usual post-workout protein shake, turning to you as you put your water bottle down on the counter. 

“You want one, darling?” 

“Uh, no thanks. I think I’m gonna go shower,” You could feel the redness still on your cheeks. “I feel gross.” 

And it wasn’t just from the sweat. 

Tom nodded, giving you a small smile before you turned and went into his room to grab a change of clothes before walking down the hall to the bathroom to shower. 

Tom could sense that you wanted to be alone, deciding that he shouldn’t join you in the shower like he normally would do. 

You took your sweet time getting clean, mainly focusing on how your body didn’t feel much different as you rubbed body wash over your skin. 

One thing that you and Tom had in common was you both liked the idea of a challenge and would persevere through anything that stretched beyond your normal abilities. That’s why he loved being Spider-Man. He gets to show people what he can really do, even if it takes time, or 40 takes, to get there. 

You’re the exact same way. You never really like repeating the same thing over and over again with work and want to show off your capabilities. Normally you would see this as a challenge and keep trying to see it through to your goal. 

But lately just the thought of perseverance has been the real challenge. 

You wanna just say ‘fuck it’. Some days, you just want to go to the gym and spend time with your boyfriend without being distracted by some app telling you what to do. Some days, you wanna eat all the pizza and drink all the beer you want while watching stupid late night movies with Tom. 

Some days, you just want to give up.

And that’s how you’re feeling right now. 

You knew Tom was catching on to your behavior, especially with eating. You felt ashamed when you had to decline the traditional things you would eat together and drag his spirits down with you. You had to admit, sometimes you would become jealous that he could eat whatever he wanted, and burn it off quickly without a change in his sculpted body. 

It didn’t seem fair to you. 

Getting out of the shower, feeling cleaner, you decided to hop on the scale one last time, completely naked. After taking your habitual ‘moment of truth’ deep breath, you stepped on and the result was the same. 

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath. It was true. 

You stepped off and proceeded to dress yourself with anger, not wanting to dry your hair. 

Exiting the bathroom, you passed Tom, who was still in the kitchen, and walked over to the sectional couch where you took your usual corner spot. Tom eventually bumbled over, holding two glasses of a brown, thick liquid. 

“I made you one anyway,” he voiced, handing you the fuller glass before sitting down next to you, his knees tucked up and turned towards you. “I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

Ugh, why did he have to be so good?

You returned a quiet ‘thanks’ as you accepted the glass. You didn’t take a sip but just stared down into it, the smell making your stomach yearn for a taste. 

“It’s chocolate,” Tom pointed out, beaming with pride. “Your favorite.”

“....What time is it?” You asked in response. 

“It’s,” Tom paused, checking his phone for the time. “10:10. Why?”

“I-I can’t eat until 11,” you remarked softly. 

Tom’s expression contorted into confusion. “Well, that’s the point, babe,” he chuckled. “It’s a protein shake, you’re not eating it.”

You could hear the smile in his voice, wanting to roll your eyes playfully or do something that showed him you were amused. But you just kept your head down, letting out another sigh. 

Tom’s tone changed as he saw you were serious and continued to not drink it. 

“Aw, c’mon, love, please drink it. Can’t remember when you last had something to eat. And I know I would be starving after what you did at the gym today” 

You hated making him feel responsible for your health. You knew you needed to eat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole truth.

“I just….want to feel fuller throughout the day,” you explained. 

Tom nodded, shifting his own gaze down to his fingers, which were tapping the glass of his cup. He suddenly put his glass down on the coffee table in front of you, before moving closer next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/N….why can’t you eat until 11?” He asked earnestly. 

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. That was like the equivalent of stressful things building up and you break down once someone asks ‘you okay?.’ You turned your face away from him for a second, trying to gather the words.

“I….don’t w-wanna gain weight and then regret everything tomorrow after I work my ass off at the gym and then don’t see the results,” you spat, the first tear beginning to fall. 

“Aw, love,” Tom consoled, taking your glass from your hands to place it next to his on the table before moving slightly behind you so he could pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head. 

“What’s all this about? You know I think you’re beautiful,” he reminded you.

You sniffled, wiping your face before pulling away from him. “That’s the thing, Tom.”

“This isn’t about you. I mean, I want to look good for you but that’s not why a-and not to sound vain but...I know I’m pretty,” You rambled out, making yourself chuckle a bit. 

He chuckled with you, reaching up to wipe away a tear, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ears before letting you continue. 

“I know how you feel about me...and I’m glad you remind me but I just,” you paused for a moment, shifting your eyes from eyes, trying to find how to say it exactly. 

“I just want to feel healthier,” you finally get out. 

“I haven’t felt that way in….a while,” you admitted. “Especially when the movie premiered, I could just...feel myself going over the edge.” 

More tears came to surface, you took a moment to breathe through them. 

“And my body just isn’t like yours, I gain weight so easily! And working out everyday isn’t enough; I have to practically not eat anything to see any change in the numbers...right now I’ve been fluctuating back and forth...I just can’t seem to get out of this spot..I-I just,”

You broke down at that point, leaning back into his body as he comforted you, pulling you into his lap. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’ve just worried me, ‘s all,” he admitted. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Didn’t mean to make you worry,” you apologized as your tears subsided, resting your head on his shoulder. “But I’m putting in more effort than I can give and it leaves me exhausted everyday. I’m just….frustrated.”

“I’m sorry you’re having a rough time, love. It is hard,” Tom agrees. “But just remember that you’re your own toughest critic and I know you’re strong enough to overcome that. I, for one, think you look sexy as fuck,” he voiced, a hand squeezing your hip. 

You chuckle a bit, sensing a similar situation. “I could say the same for you.”

“What do you mean?” Tom questions with a smirk.

You sit up again, leaning back into the cushion of the couch with his arm still around you. 

“You’ve just openly talked about how you thought you looked better in the last Spider-Man than in this one so,” you shrugged. 

Tom scoffs a laugh. “Yeah, but, that was different. I still look good, I just thought I looked better in Homecoming,” he clarifies. 

“Okay, well, I, for one, think you look sexy as fuck anytime,” you emphasized, throwing his words back at him, while squeezing his thick bicep. 

Tom tipped his head back, laughing before wrapping you in his arms again to squish you into a hug. Pulling away, he kissed your lips quickly before pulling away slightly, his nose brushing yours. 

“Well, my point is, we can figure out what you need together. I’m glad that you’re trying to help improve on yourself but just know that I’m here to support you all the way.” 

“Thanks, Tommy,” you giggled before placing your lips on his again, your hand going to the back of his neck while his pulled your waist closer. 

“Starting with,” he spoke against your lips before pulling away and reaching over.

“Chugging this,” He held the drink he made for you in front of you, prompting you to finally drink it. 

“Are you serious?” You laughed, raising your brows.

“YESSSSS,” he replied, singing loudly. “You’re gonna have to drink it if you wanna build that muscle,” he pointed out, squeezing your bicep, which had a little more loose skin on it than his did. 

You sighed dramatically, taking the glass from his hands, looking down at the thick, brown liquid again. 

“Weeeeeee like to drink with Y/N because Y/N is our mate—” Tom started sing-yelling again, this time belting out one of your infamous drinking songs. 

“—Okay, okay” you shushed him, covering your hand over his mouth to silence him. “But if I puke, you’re gonna regret it.”

“And she gets it down in 8, 7, 6…”

Bitch.

~

A/N: im back bitcH. heres a lil surprise for everyone, i know its not GRIND but i want to thank everyone for being so patient with me while i was away! i wanted to start with something a lil smaller before i get back into GRIND but i have been writing for it and it’s coming, i promise. i thought of this idea this morning and wrote it today (fastest i’ve written in a while) and this ones pretty personal for me rn bc i have been struggling with trying to take care of my health and i thought it tied in well with toms comment about his physique in ffh. anyway, be patient with yourself and consistency will take care of you!! 

xx. tommybaholland 🌺

i haven’t written in a minute pls tell me ur thoughts!

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[celestianstars]

Unrequited

Florian Munteanu x Reader

Warnings: angst, small crumbs of fluff if you look hard lol

For the anon who requested an unrequited love mini fic of Florian.

(I’ve also got a Viktor fanfic started so that will be done sometime soon btw!)

Sorry in advance for the sadness!

——————————————————————————

Acting like you weren’t in love with the man you were sleeping with was the most difficult thing to keep up with. 

Meeting Florian was a dream; one minute you were being invited to sit with him and his friends at the shisha lounge they always frequented, and the next you had a friends with benefits type thing with him.

He was just so easy to be around, the man had a charm about him that could suck anybody up and you felt lucky enough to get to be pleasured by him and feel safe and appreciated and understood along with it.

You just weren’t sure when that easy going, no strings attached situation had turned into you wanting more.

It shouldn’t have happened considering that he told you that he wasn’t looking for a long term relationship at the moment, his career was really taking off and he just wanted something casual and fun and in the beginning that was perfectly fine for you but now...it hurt you more and more to keep the secret.

He noticed the shift in your interactions with him too despite your best efforts to stop thinking about him that way.

It was only a suspicion when you held onto his waist as he was getting up from your bed after one particularly hot night together but he tried to write it off as you just feeling a little clingier than usual.

“It’s early Y/N, you should go back to sleep. I need to be at the gym soon.” he wasn’t cold about it, gentle as ever actually, as he pried your hands from his torso, tucking you back in bed.

Usually anytime he’d have to get up early you’d wake up from hearing him move around but would just wish him a good day and eventually fall back asleep but lately you wanted as much of him as you could get and tried to bargain with him for a few extra minutes in bed.

He got a confirmation of his suspicions when you kept asking to go with him to clubs or movie premieres to which he would always hesitate and tell you no. The fight that came after one too many “no”’s seeming to set everything straight.

“Why won’t you ever let me be seen with you in public Flo? Are you embarrassed or something?” you were trying not to seem irritated but in truth, you were.

Your body language gave you away, slight scowl on your face, arms crossed, leaning against the hallway of his apartment, watching him move between his room and the bathroom.

He was getting ready to go out with some friends he hadn’t seen in a few months and you decided to ask one more time because maybe this time he’d want your company too, only to get the same excuse of it being just a guy’s night.

“I’m not embarrassed Y/N, come on don’t be like that. I just know people would talk and there would be pictures of us everywhere and...” he sighed heavily, stopping to look at you for a second as he said it but you cut him off.

“Since when have you ever been concerned about what people say about you? You’ve literally always said that you know who your true friends are and their opinions are what really matter. So that brings me back to my original question, you don’t want to be seen with me do you? What, are you worried about what your friends are gonna say about me? That means you’re embarrassed!” you huffed.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not embarrassed! I just don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Not a good idea? What the fuck, Florian. Why is it a bad idea, please explain, is it because you think people will say I’m using you for money even when we both know I own a successful business and make a nice amount of money and can take care of myself? Or would people think I’m ugly and you secretly think I’m not attractive enough to be seen with your movie star self, huh?” you rolled your eyes at him, your level of annoyance going up by the second.

He stopped brushing his beard to look at you, not saying anything but just looking. He could see the secret in your eyes, you were falling for him, that’s what this entire thing was about and he knew for sure now.

“Will you stop? You know I don’t think you’re unattractive in any way and I admire you for being your own boss. I meant that people would think we were together, and we’re not and I don’t wanna deal with questions and rumors.” he frowned and went back to fixing up his beard in the bathroom mirror.

You weren’t sure what else you were expecting him to say because you knew it was the truth but it hurt you nonetheless.

There was nothing at fault with what he was saying, you knew this, but maybe you’d been holding out hope that he would admit feelings for you too.

How could you let yourself get to this point? 

You knew what you were getting into the minute he took you back to his place the night you first met and now you were hurting and not sure what to do about any of it.

You were silent for a long time before speaking again, choosing your words carefully.

“You’re right, we’re not together but...maybe...we could...be together some day?” you could barely bring yourself to look him in the eyes but he wasn’t saying anything and you could read his face like a book so you decided to face it.

And there it was. The heaviness in his eyes mixed with a frown, his eyebrows knit together, revealing that no, in fact, you couldn’t be together in that way.

He didn’t want to hurt you, that was the last thing he wanted to do, he may be seen as a fuckboy to some but that wasn’t who he was and it pained him to see your hopes being dashed down because of him.

“I....listen Y/N, you would be a great partner, you really would but I can’t do that. I don’t think I’m very good at relationships and my attention is on so many other things...I’m traveling so much lately too...” he leaned against the hallway wall, trying to be more at eye level with you because now you really couldn’t meet his gaze.

The mood in the room had shifted completely, all your irritability at his responses earlier morphing into sadness.

You were afraid you were going to start crying, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak up despite the avalanche of things you wanted to say.

“F...Florian...even if it was hard sometimes we could still make it work. But you don’t feel that way towards me, I’m more in love with you and you’re...not at all.” you felt your hands shake and you had to squeeze them together, hoping he didn’t notice that you were really struggling to keep it together.

He was just a guy. You tried to tell yourself that over and over, he was just a guy that you got too attached to but it was going to be ok because there were plenty of others out there, right?

But it was all such bullshit. Sure he was just a guy and he had flaws like any person but he was the first person to have treated you right even though you were just casually seeing each other, he treated you right.

“I’m sorry...I wish I could fix this but yes...I’m not in love with you.” he reached out to touch you, try and comfort you but you pushed his hand away.

It would only hurt more if he touched you.

He could tell that he was already hurting you and it killed him inside. He wasn’t in love with you but he still cared about you, you were still close to him personally and he didn’t want to lose your friendship.

“I don’t want to make this worse, Y/N, but maybe we shouldn’t fuck anymore. Just be friends. I don’t want to make you feel even worse by still sleeping with you and not being able to give you what you want.” he backed off a little, giving you some space to process.

The levee had broken and your tears were evident now, not being able to stop them from coming.

Hearing the last thing he said was what did it because it was what you feared second to him rejecting a relationship. He was right and you couldn’t argue his point, but it hurt all the same because everything had come crashing down in a matter of minutes.

You nodded and wiped your tears away hastily.

“I’m sorry, I never ever want to make you cry but I know you want me to be honest with you.” he hated this entire situation, not attempting to physically reach out again but wanting desperately to comfort you and make this better.

“It’s...o...ok Florian. I get it. You’re right actually, we shouldn’t sleep together anymore and it’s ok I promise. Um...I guess you better get going then, you’re gonna be late to the party. I’ll get all my stuff laying around here and...leave...leave the key under the mat before you get back.” you hiccuped, still shaking but trying to put on a brave face, knowing that if you didn’t start cutting your ties with him you would break down even more.

“That’s fine, take as much time as you need. I’m sorry again, I didn’t want this to be so painful but...you’re still a good friend, Y/N. And you’ll be with someone who deserves you better than me.” he spoke to you gently.

His gentleness with you even when this was probably awkward for him sent a pang through your heart.

He wasn’t cold about any of this for a single second, listening to what you had to say and trying to find a solution without intentionally hurting you unlike so many before him.

He said he wasn’t good at relationships but you knew for fact that he was because he didn’t try and push you away or say something hurtful because your confession annoyed him and he didn’t want to deal with it, he respected you enough to deal with it maturely and be mindful of how you felt while also telling you his own feelings.

You wanted him more than ever now but this was ending and you couldn’t allow yourself to dwell on it at this second, later you’d fall apart but not in front of him.

He stuck around a few extra minutes, making sure good you were both leaving on good terms and alright with just being friends now before you urged him to go already, have fun with his friends.

He held out his arms for you to embrace him and this time you accepted his touch, knowing this was probably the last time you’d hug him like he was yours and only yours, his sturdy arms wrapping around you, giving you a small squeeze before letting you go.

Flashes of memories came to the forefront of your mind as he said goodbye and stepped out of his apartment, leaving you to walk around and collect every piece of yourself you’d left here.

You let the sobs rack your chest as you went from room to room, remembering days you’d spent here, endless conversations and moments wrapped up in his arms, your lips and body on his, now everything feeling hollow and distant.

No trace of you was left behind as you gathered all the items you’d left at his place and locked the door, sliding his spare key under the mat and heading back to your own apartment to call your best friend and sit with your grief for awhile.

He said you’d find someone who you deserved better than him but if you were being honest, all you wanted and felt like you deserved, was him, there was no other, better person in your eyes.

He was all you wanted and it was gone now.

You cursed yourself for opening your mouth about it, for not trying to dig your heels in and get over those feelings and focus on keeping it casual but of course you had to fall hard and tell him about it.

There was nothing you could do now but try and accept it for what it was.

You were miles apart from each other now but the tiniest fluttering little bird of hope in your chest told you that maybe, just maybe, you’d find your way back to each other one day.

[hrhgeorgevi]

RINGSPORT 1

‘Televised Wrestling Comes To You By Arrangement With King George VI Wrestling Club’

Issue 1 7 April 2020

Between Rounds With Mikolaj Salak

Poland’s Salak is a regular campaigner in British rings for the last few years with the Heavy-Middleweight now being based in Boston, Lincolnshire for much of the year and is now wrestling exclusivity for the King George VI Wrestling Club. 

Salak is the son of a farmer from Warsaw, and joined a Boys Wrestling Club at 12-years old winning both regional and national wrestling tournaments. 

After leaving school he worked with his father as a farmer for a brief time before joining the Air Force for five years where he further expanded his wrestling into international tournaments. 

As well as a talented wrestler, he was also a skilled footballer and had attended trials as a teenager for several Clubs before deciding that wrestling was going to be his sport of choice, with the professional ranks appealing to him even as he was making a career in the Polish Airforce. 

Salak entered the professional ranks in 1998 at the age of 22, but didn’t arrive in Britain until 2010 for his first tour where he dazzled the crowds at several independent shows along the East Coast, where he has now taken up residence. 

As well as tours to the United States and Africa, Salak recently shined during the Golden Grappler Series, with successful singles and tag team encounters with Fuji Hirai, Leon Maddison, Samir Pande and Billy Bingham.

His reward for his good fortune in the ring is a shot at the European Heavy-Middleweight Championship and belt, currently held by Portuguese grappler Joao Silva, although he does have a series of challengers he is set to face before he arrives in Great Britain to face Salak in a bout tipped to be held in early May. 

Until then Salak will continue his rigorous fitness routines as well as spend time with his twelve chickens that h looks after with his wife Betty.

Wrestling Roundabout - Update From The Orient

Fuji Hirai may have had a tough welcome to the British grapple game this past weekend, coming on the wrong side of his four bouts, but he is being hailed back in his native Japan as a future World Champion. 

The 23-year old former kick boxer will briefly return to Japan where he will take part in the ‘Tiger King’ Tournament held at the famous Korakuen Hall in Tokyo. The tournament features 16-wrestlers all under the age of 25.

Hirai was already scheduled for the tournament before his Japanese promoters arranged to send him to Europe on a six month excursion with King George VI Wrestling Club.

While wrestling supporters will be keen to see the young man develop at halls and venues throughout the country, they will also be pleased to know that Harry Linacre and Fred Forman the owners of King George VI Wrestling Club have sanctioned matchmaker Edwin Luntley to bring over more Japanese stars for the next ‘All Star Extravaganza’ tour.

FROM AFRICA WITH LOVE

Three African ring warriors are just weeks away from dazzling wrestling fans including potential TV bouts after signing contracts to be part of the ‘All Star Extravaganza’ tour. 

Zulu duo Kumalo and Msimangu have not been seen in Britain for three years, but have enjoyed great success in France as well as the big German tournaments in Hamburg. 

The final athlete set to arrive will be Heavyweight bruiser Alf ‘Sledgehammer’ Salisbury from Zimbabwe. The highly educated man from Harare attended University in South Africa and the United States were he became a decorated wrestler and rower. The ‘Sledgehammer’ nickname was coined after an opponent claimed that the lariat that he likes to use to end his matches felt like being hit by a sledgehammer. Salisbury will join an ever growing rank of international Heavyweights set to do battle in the rings later this month. 

FRESNO DOWN BUT NOT OUT

Bolton’s popular ring performer Johnny Fresno has apologised to fans and television executives after he left the ring following the lose of his World Lightweight Championship and belt. 

Fresno was ruled by the ringside Doctor as being unable to continue with the contest due to significant amount of bloodless in his encounter with Mexican sensation Metallica Panther III. 

The two clashed heads early in the contest - but it was a head but from the Luchador that sealed Fresno’s fate when the Doctor stepped in and called a hold to the battle. 

Fresno did visit the Queen Mary Hospital following the evening’s presentation but was back in the ring two days later. 

“I wasn’t aware that Mr Wright wanted to interview me,” said Fresno from his semi-detached house in Bolton. 

“If I am honest I was suffering from shock that the match had ended the way it did and was keen to get an understanding from the referee and the Doctor why they did not see fit that I would not be able to continue.”

The duo were seen battling it out for the Belt in the premier episode of On The Mat which is broadcast every Saturday evening with Fresno claiming he would like another shot at the title in a televised match. 

“I know many of my fans have been writing and call me, asking when the rematch is, but I’ve not yet had chance to speak to the matchmakers - obviously I want a shot at Panther and this time I think I can win.”

The Lightweight division will be hotting up in the coming months with several other international talent keen to challenge for the Championship. 

On the possibility of having to step down the ranks and challenge for European or British Commonwealth honours - Fresno said “At the moment I believe I should be the Worlds champion and that is my focus right now.”

TV MAIN EVENT CONFIRMED

After the debut episode of On The Mat saw the bloody Battle of Britain and Mexico next Saturday’s feature bout will be between Northern Irish brothers Jimmy and John Murphy with teammate Les Allen taking on the Americna trio of Billy Tucker, Dexter Eagles and Dusty Russel. The match was taped in Wrexham last Friday.

RINGSPORT is a bi-weekly wrestling magazine. To contribute email the editor at hrhgeorgevi@aol.com

[strechanadi]

Swan Lake - no longer a fairy tale

Right, so... Nobody asked me to, but something so marginal cannot stop me, clearly, so I went and translated the longest, the trickiest, the most profound review I have ever written. (And that includes POB Giselle, Swan Lake and Onegin! OK. Maybe not Onegin. But since I’ve done this one I can almost make myself believe I could give translating Onegin a go as well.) (She said and then promptly kill herself before she could made another clearly, completely and utterly deranged decision.)

Half of the things don’t make sense, I’m sure. And I can only hope they made sense in the original. (Which they probably didn’t, let’s be real, but since when this matters to me anyway?) (God, I literally cannot stop babbling, somebody strangle me or something. Or at least take the keyboard from my grabby and apparently very high fingers, that decided to simply vomit words after words for no real reason and with no brain to mouth/fingers filter whatsoever!)

It’s in times like this I truly wish to be able to write in an actual English language. Or for my mother language to be a world language, not some beautiful, hot mess, but a mess nonetheless, from the middle of nowhere. A mess I despite of everything love dearly and even live in this illusion of me being really pretty good in using (or more like playing with) it.

What is also clear - I, for a reason not known to humans, love to write absurdly, ridiculously long sentences. Be it just up to me, I’d write a whole review in one obscure linguistic construction I call a perfectly normal sentence. I was told however, that English doesn’t really do or like such things, so I tried to shorten them. Or some of them. Was really unbelievably succesfull doing so...

No reason to prolong this now, I guess?

So just, please be patient. Or benevolent. Or try to laugh in private at least! Look, I tried and I know it’s actually rather pathetic to be so spectacularly bad in English grammar, that I supposedly learnt from the age of 5 (but then spent more than 15 years actively hating the whole language, which... doesn’t make sense, I admit, but maybe explain some things), but... I mean, it would be better than google translate, if anything else. It HAS TO be!

As always - I appologize for anything and everything I did to the poor English language. It doesn’t deserve such a poor treatment.

Were there anybody who would feel personally attacked by my sheer ignorance of the basics of language of Shakespeare, Byron or Shelley and would want to make this thing better, let me know! (Even though I am afraid there are so many mistakes, your eyes will be bleeding around the end of 2nd paragraph...)

Last one - I have no idea how in/definite articles work!

(Good thing I don’t write fiction of any sort, ANs would be longer than the actual thing.)

Swan Lake, no longer a fairy tale

 Whenever the two words – Swan Lake – were mentioned, everybody had some universally shared idea of the final picture. Nothing has drastically changed with John Neumeier (1976, Illusionen – wie Schwanensee), who mixed the original fairy story with events from prince Ludwig II of Bavaria’s life, nor with Mats Ek (1987), whose prince was torn between imaginary princess Odette and real life Odile, nor with Jean-Christophe Maillot (2011, Le Lac) and new relations between his main characters, not even with Alexander Ekman (2014, A Swan Lake), who came back in time and took a look at the first premiere of said ballet in 1877 and tried to make a rather poetic story about what from certain point was started to be called a fiasco. As if the later Petipa/Ivanov version needs any more boost…

The unshakable certitude was irretrievably broken in 1995 by Matthew Bourne. His Swan Lake was new, daring, bold, with unexpected twists and one could not left theatre feeling indifferent after seeing it. Part of the ballet world turned its back to such profanity of beloved classic. The other part fell for its captivating charm, and since in 2018 Bourne’s Swan Lake came back to his New Adventure’s repertoire for umpteenth time, after hundreds of successful shows, many tours across the globe, adorned with every possible theatre and dance awards, it seems clear who were right then, 24 years ago.

  The most common characteristic of Bourne’s Swan Lake is „the male one“. Prince is in the centre of attention, black swan Odile is changed into unknown Stranger, and most obviously – all the swans became purely men’s business. Which opens completely new perspective for male dancers and saying that this ballet has a major influence to whole generations of artists is hardly an overstatement.

  Bourne follows the original structure and basic frame of Swan Lake. There are still four acts, act one follows the Prince, his character, the environment he’s living in, relations he has, act two is for the swans, act three still represents the ball, and in act four, where traditionally the Prince is coming back to the lake, here the swans appear in prince’s room. Many times even the formal structure is intact – the prince’s solo at the end of act one, pas de quatre of both little and big swans, or Bourne’s take on character dances in act three. Even the entrée of swans in second act follows the same space structure of the Ivanov’s original /aka swans are coming one after the other and crossing the stage from left to right (dancers‘ perspective)/.

  Oedipal Complex, repressed sexuality, low self-esteem

Bourne’s Prince, his personality, is more than ever influenced by his upbringing, by the estrangement of aristocratic background, his world constantly controlled, constricted by rules and rituals, with no spaces for affection, understanding, empathy, every emotion being replaced by duty. Bond between son and mother the Queen (ice cold, distant Katrina Lyndon for whom one cannot feel an ounce of sympathy, or more emotional, but still dismissive Nicole Cabera) is minute, almost non-existent, which has such a strong impact on the introverted, socially inept, insecure Prince, who is on top of all that haunted by strange dreams about swans. The feeling of lacking something gets even worse when he clearly sees his mother is more than capable of showing emotions, particularly towards another young men.

During yet another military parade or boat christening or exhibition opening, the heir to the throne is met with a bit silly, ill-mannered and completely unsuitable girl for his royal life (incomparable Carrie Willis, whose interpretation makes her character pretty sweet with candid, open-hearted warmth), who shortly after became his girlfriend and went with the family to the opera house to watch a ballet performance. Staging theatre scenes within the actual production /we call it theatre on theatre, which probably doesn’t make sense in any other language then ours, sorry/ is always very rewarding. Bourne is on top of that master of choreographic punchline and this scene (to pas de trois from Act I music) combines all clichés from romantic sylphs, awaken Floras, forest beasts to well-built male heroes one could think of and is a joy to watch for its grotesqueness as well as for the subtle details in gestures, ballet quirky manner or choreographic pattern for those, who know where to look for them.

The prince is trying to find his freedom in a night club, but to no avail. He’s met there unexpectedly with his frolicking girlfriend, then he got himself into a fight with one of her suitors (or maybe rather clients) and at the end his soul is beaten for good, when he has to watch the royal secretary paying some money to the one girl, whose affections he believed were genuine. (And it kind of doesn’t matter they most probably truly were.)

The only logical solution for the prince is a suicide. But before he’s able to throw himself into waters of a small park lake, majestic Swan appears and everything is changed at once. Traditional swans‘ corps de ballet danced by women is often associated with delicate elegance, crystalline beauty, dreamy atmosphere and aesthetics of homogeneously moving bodies. Swan is becoming a pure ideal almost as if from ancient Greece. Bourne’s swans are first and foremost animals, he’s not denying their grace, but is showing their slight awkwardness and ridiculousness in some movements at the same time. His swans are wild, independent, fetterless. Looking sinister when lining up to attack the prince, their physical, natural power strengthened by additional slapping arms, stamping feet, hissing and dangerously sharp, audible breathing. The Swan alone is very wary of the prince, uncompromisingly harsh, defensive, with sharp edges of aggressiveness that serves as self-defence of this imposing, powerful creature from anybody who would think of causing any harm. The almost imperceptible gestures calling the prince towards him are even more meaningful then, the moment when he nuzzles prince’s chest indescribably intimate.

Next evening there’s a ball at the palace. And even though it may seem the main reason of it is prince’s engagement thanks to all the ladies present, it’s the queen in her bright crimson dress amongst all black gowns who is in the spotlight. While her son doesn’t even know, what he should be doing with all said ladies. Break from routine comes with mysterious Stranger, whose raw, animalistic charisma draws every female’s attention to him, which he welcomes with great satisfaction. At the same time it also affects, quite unintentionally, the utterly unprepared prince, because Stranger’s arrogant dominance has something from Swan’s animalistic fierce. /Dear English language, you have many words. More than my mother language. But you have exactly nothing that would or could match prchlivost. Or at least I am unable to find it./ As Odile in original libretto, the Stranger dances his way through character dances (the Neapolitan one stands out with its light-hearted fun it makes of cliché Italian relationships) and finds his dancing peak in duet with the queen (music of so called Black Swan Pas de Deux). It is when prince’s psyche breaks and he, in his imagination, is thrown in arms of unknown to be faced with intimacy, sensuality, sexual tension and even the most basic physical contact, everything so strong even person of sound mind would probably find it difficult to cope. Therefore, when the Stranger kisses the queen, prince is there with gun in his hands and complete madness in his eyes. In chaotic situation gunshot is heard (although not by prince’s pistol), prince’s girlfriend falls dead and terrified young man is drawn away.

The tragedy is inevitable. To padded cell, where the prince is held, come doctor with the queen followed by group of nurses with queen’s face, whose hairstyle and white uniform may resemble the demonic nurse Ratched from the Miloš Forman’s film Flew over the cuckoo’s nest. After certain medical procedure (just shy from lobotomy) the prince is taken to his room, where the miserable, wounded Swan emerges from his bed. Shortly after he is followed by irritated flock of other swans, that throw themselves unbridled on the young man and then even on their supposed leader, doing so with brutality growing with every Swan’s desperate attempt to save his prince. The Swan dies at the end after their fatal, almost fanatical attack. And with him die prince’s illusions, dreams, hopes and then he himself. So when the Queen comes in the morning, all she finds is her son’s dead body, the sight of the Swan embracing his prince behind the bed the only, yet bittersweet comfort for the audience.

  As many other versions of this famous ballet, this too strengthens psychological aspect of the story and deepens characters‘ personalities. Here, more than ever, the contours of main characters are pretty blurry. The prince and the Swan are blending into one, they are reflected in the other, full of opposites they are complementing each other, one would say they are like two sides of the same coin. /Ha!/ Bourne on top of that let his characters to blend with different original ones. Where in traditional Swan Lakes it’s Odette weeping at the beginning of the last scene, here it’s the Prince, who is going through mental breakdown in striking resemblance to Giselle’s mad scene. The role of Rothbart, the sorcerer, is played by the royal secretary as well as prince’s own mother, who at the same time plays a part of original Siegfried during the act 3 ball, when being seduced by Stranger, who is Odile. What may seem as confusing chaos at first sight, makes perfect sense in the end and strengthens the unquestionably dark tones of Bourne’s choreographic vision.

  Artistic approaches or One man’s meat is another man’s poison…

As it always is with story ballets, individual artistic interpretation is something that has the power to change the final image of said piece. In case of Bourne’s Swan Lake and its current stars, the outcome may be completely different with each cast.

  Where Liam Mower was bored, annoyed, slightly defiant teenage Prince, Dominic North’s hero was more tired, depressed young man with no illusions, very well aware of all his flaws and inability to fulfil all expectations of his social role, while James Lovell, who seemed most out of touch with reality, emphasized prince’s childishly pure, honest naivety. If the suicide attempt of Mower’s prince was more than anything a dramatic gesture, North was simply resigned to its inevitability, and Lovell threw himself into the waters with absolute, desperate abandon, his mind not able to see any other solution. Each and every prince is then influenced by his Swan and Stranger (and every Swan and Stranger by his prince).

Matthew Ball, the newest principal of the Royal Ballet, can rely on his first-class technique as well as on his unquestionable elegant stage presence. His pliable body felt the music to its very last molecule, every movement full of regal charm and classical beauty, which in a way brought Ball closer to traditional, delicately soft, feminine portrayal of Odette. His Swan was untouchable in his impeccable perfection, icily confident, aware of every gesture he made, of every prince’s fascinated glance. Max Westwell, former soloist of English National Ballet, concentrated more on the raw temperament, natural animal distrust, physical power and ferocity combined with enigmatic magnificence. Dynamics of his movements escalated at all times, was full of unexpected turns and transitions from strong, energetic endings, to exhalation captured in casual, seemingly ordinary movement of hanging wrist.

As the Stranger Ball looked like smug dandy enjoying himself and all the attention, all too well aware of his own youth and beauty, that make everybody fall for him. Personally though I couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t as in charge as it might look at the first sight. He was mocking his prince, showing off ostentatiously. Weswell on the other hand was the embodiment of pure, uncompromising charisma. Interactions between him and Mower’s prince, who was impressed by Stranger’s unconventional, rough manners at first, was quickly becoming a tense fight for power, the prince trying to prove himself worthy of Stranger’s attention, to prove he’s his equal. With Lovell’s prince the seducing, open flirting, blatant sexuality was much more evident, which combined with this prince’s ingenuous innocence made the final picture unpleasantly sinister.

 Regardless of different casts, ending of the ballet became a real emotional roller-coaster. With Matthew Ball and Dominic North equal in their complete despair when being sure of the inevitable death of their partner. Ball’s total resignation the more palpable, the more he was stubbornly, despite his injuries trying to stay or at least look unaffected on the outside. Change of Westwell’s Swan, in act 2 so independent and powerful, was shocking. Now he was utterly, hopelessly, painfully broken. He was defending both his princes against furious swans with rabid determination, with no self-preservation whatsoever, with perfect, devoted abandon. Bond between him and James Lovell’s prince was then strengthened by certain feel of responsibility, by tenderness that felt almost motherly. He was not only trying to protect, but to sooth, to give some comfort to his prince as well with physical contact, with touches stronger, more frequent, more expressive, more meaningful. That was why prince’s positively hysterical, agonizing grief hurt almost physically then.

 Bourne managed something extraordinary. His Swan Lake with costumes by Lez Brotherson is as iconic, as legendary as the original ballet. His vision as strong as let’s say Ek’s Giselle. What’s more, Bourne’s ballet doesn’t age, it hasn’t lost any of its impact – thanks to slight costume, dramaturgic and choreographic changes, that only strengthen its drive. Prince’s hinted homosexuality won‘t shock anyone anymore as well as men swans won’t provoke such controversy, true. But thanks to these examples it is evident, that Bourne’s ballet is so much more than just a gay version of one famous story…

For everybody who actually reach the end of this madness - congratulations. And I am sorry.

[presidentbttrflyfreak]

healing through letting go // thomas brodie sangster

aaaaa the 2nd requested oneshot is here!! i just finished reading tmr series a few weeks ago so my emotions n pain are incredibly raw. thank you for the anon who requested this! this one is based on prompt #1 and #6 of this list (they will be in bold). don’t forget to give me some love, reblog & like to break other’s hearts too!

Warnings: tears and hEARTbreak

Word count: 2.3k 

When you arrived at his apartment, Thomas was leaning by the handrail, taking a drag. You looked at him, recognizing his matted blonde hair, arched spine and tensed arms. He should’ve been asleep by this time in the morning, yet it wasn’t much of a surprise also. You knew that he always has something on his mind, and you added to that.

However, you also had several things running around your head, knocking on your heart. As usual, tonight was another sleepless night. You laid on your bed, same thoughts as last night’s passing by your head. It’s been a couple months like this. Rest was rare, work was more than a handful and like sleep, Thomas was also barely around. You both agreed on making this last, and you both believed you could make it work. But looking at where you two are now, things haven’t gone the way you both planned it to be.

Pulling your coat around yourself tighter, you took quick steps towards him. 7 Eleven was open and you thanked God for that, allowing you to get some snacks for him and you too. Your steps must have been soundless, considering Thomas still had his eyes close, unmoving. It was about 3 am, and the breeze was colder than you expected. A cold wind blew and it disheveled Thomas’ hair even more. You caught a glimpse of his ears, seemingly cold because of its reddish tinge. He finally retreated and turned his body to the side and took another drag.

Your eyes met with his then. Your heart wrenched at the sight of them. Deeply brown and moist as if he was tearing up. His eyes always seemed like that. There were times he’d be incredibly happy and yet there was this lingering look of sadness and exhaustion in his eyes. You smiled at him as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. Thomas’ eyes had widened a bit but he gave you his signature grin like he was thinking ‘couldn’t sleep too?’.

“I bought some chips and sodas cause I totally knew you’d be awake by this hour.” You said, leaning on the handrail too. Thomas ran his hands through his hair then twisted his body so he would be facing you too. “Yeah, totally.” His voice was rough and raspy, proving that he probably woke up in the middle of the night from slumber.’

His hand holding the cigarette was propped on the handrail, right beside you. The smoke was lifting and so was its reeking scent. Thomas knew you didn’t like the smell of smoke. You were okay with him smoking, but he was careful never to do it in front of you. Which is why you’re shocked he hasn’t thrown the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it yet.

It was a dark and cold night. The only light brightening the place was the dim street posts. Somehow, you knew that you were one of the reasons for his waking. Thomas looked at you like he was trying to memorize you and how you looked in his head. He reached for your hand and held it tight. He rubbed it, caressing it with care. You tried to hold his gaze too, but the reek was choking you. You hadn’t inhaled smoke in a long time and you utterly despised having to smell it again from Thomas. Thomas was still looking at you in silence, an unreadable look resting on his face.

You only squeezed back to let go of his hand. Choking and coughing slightly, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Thomas, it reeks, please.”

He immediately withdrew, like he just remembered right now. “O, dear god, I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m sorry, love.” He trampled on the cigarette in panic and guilt. When he finished, he hastily wiped his palms on his sweatpants.

You held your arms open. “C'mere.”

You could see that he really regretted having done that. Thomas really understood how you intensely detested the smell and he incredibly loves you so much and made sure never to cross his boundaries. He came close and you pulled him in tight. Burying his head on the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I extremely hate myself now that I have broken rule number 3, never smoke in front of the beautiful lady,” He mumbled. “I got caught in a daze and forgot.”

Your heart crumpled. Had you two been this distant towards each other? Thomas just arrived in your hometown a few weeks ago. He was flying one sky to another continuously while you chose to settle here, and love him from afar. Well, you two thought you could.

You released him and touched the side of his face. “It’s alright,” you replied. You wanted to badly dismiss the incident knowing that he’ll forever look back at it and blame himself. “You up for a ‘stroll and gobble’?” You asked, holding up the plastic bag full of food and drinks.

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. “Of course. Because 3:30 in the morning is a wonderful time to be alive.” He entered his apartment and swiftly grabbed his coat from the hook rack and shut the door behind him. Thomas took your hand in his and led you down the stairs. His hand was warm despite the weather, it warmed yours lovingly.

Your steps were synchronized as you two trudged towards the nearby park. The trees were brushing against each other loudly as the breeze blew strongly. Thomas wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer.

“Why are you up this late? You need the sleep and rest, you know.” You said, looking up to his eyes. Thomas’ nose was turning a bit red you couldn’t help but notice it. You hadn’t seen his face in so long. He was constantly sleeping through the afternoon since he arrived. Jet lag truly took its toll on him. You would be over at his place and just watch him sleep and clean the place a bit for him. Often, you would join him and just cuddle. You tried to spend more time with him every day to make up for the moths you didn’t. His career had both its pros and cons, both in terms of income and health. And in terms of relationships.

He led you towards a bench. Both of you sat down and you brought out the content of the plastic bag, offering him a sandwich. “I should be the one asking you that. Why are you still awake? Don’t you have work tomorrow?” He asked before taking a bite from the sandwich.

You took a sip of the tea. “Well, seems like I’ll be working tomorrow without a wink of sleep.” You took a can of iced coffee from the bag and offered it to him. “Your favorite.”

Thomas only looked at the can at first. He then heaved a sigh and took the can from my hand and set it down on the ground, beside his feet. You sent him a confused look.

He wiped the mayonnaise off his lips with a tissue and licked his lips. “The doc prohibits me from drinking coffee now,” he muttered. “I experienced a few attacks of irregular heartbeats and increased heartbeats back in Korea. It’s been a few months now and my insomnia’s going away a bit since I refrained from drinking coffee.”

You couldn’t help but feel upset. You already worried enough about him being away and the jet lag that came with it. But now this? You pursed your lips. “Why didn’t you tell me? One ring and you have my ears. You know that.” Concern filled the tone of your voice.

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, of course, I know that. I just didn’t want to burden you more. All I did since I left for Death Cure was think about coming back and spending time with you and the family. I decided to focus on what coming back would bring rather than my current situation back in Korea. I’m sorry, love.” He looked up to you from the strands of his bangs.

The thoughts that have been running through your head for the past few months came back. Right at that moment, you decided to pull the string that would unravel the truth. “And what have we been able to do since you came back, Thomas?”

You heard Thomas’ breath hitch. Apparently, you were both awake thinking about each other yet you both slept on the truth that was right beneath your noses. “What happened to those plans, Thomas?” I prodded.

He leaned back and took a deep breath. “Not now, please. I don’t feel like talking about it.” You glanced at him and saw his eyes were closed. His chest was rising and falling quickly.

You gripped on your tea tighter. “We can’t avoid the subject forever, Thomas.” You stated and heaved a heavy breath. A few seconds pass before you continued. “We both believed we could make it work, Tom. And we really tried. You called, I answered. I called, you answered. But as more months passed, the situation changed. You rarely called yet I always answered when you did. I called, voicemail answered.”

Thomas stayed silent. You took this as an incentive to continue. “I know how much you love your job, your career and the people you work with. I see the way your eyes light up in the pictures you send me where you’re with your co-actors on premieres.”

“I have the same light in my eyes whenever I’m with you.” He finally decided to reply.

You understood because it was true. Thomas was genuinely happy with you. But the few months you spent together before he had to leave was not enough to fuel the longer months you two would spend apart. “I saw that, Tommy. I loved how I made you happy. And you really made me happy, more than any other I’ve been with. But as you roam the world, I’m left here to watch you fulfill your dreams as I slowly work for mine. We’re missing so much on each other’s lives, Tommy.”

Thomas was sniffling silently. You knew you hit the spot. He was the most vulnerable now. “You can’t possibly be implying that, right? It’s too early. Make yourself clearer.” He was looking at you know and he held both of your hands in his. His eyes were tearing up now and a tear slid down his cheek.

Yours came like waterfalls. “You saying it’s too early means you expected this, Thomas. You knew this happening was a 'when’, not an 'if’.” You were sobbing now, doing your best to hold it in as long as you can. “What I mean is, I’m going to stop watering a dead flower, expecting it to grow again.” You croaked, voice breaking and shoulders shaking. Thomas’ grip on your hands tightened after hearing those words.

“Dear, no. Help me, o Lord I can’t do this–” His heart was breaking and yours was too. But both of your hearts were already cracking since the day you both separated. This was just the final straw.

“It’s over, this is over.” You finally said

Thomas suddenly pulled you in a tight embrace, hearing his unsteady and shaky breaths ride beside your ear. His fingers curled around your hair and you couldn’t help but bury your head in his chest. ”This can’t possibly be happening,“ Tommy whispered through his sobs.

You clutched onto him, inhaling his scent. Cigarettes and perfume, but your Thomas all the same. "You’re home is a suitcase, Tom. And I’m afraid I was once home for you but not anymore.” Thomas’ cries louder and he hugs you even tighter. You held onto your lover and relished it for the last time. Time passed quickly and you expected the sun to rise soon.

Thomas released you and cupped your face. He looked deep into your eyes for a few seconds. His gaze broke and pulled you in again. “O dear god, I can’t afford to lose my girl, my love.” He once again buried his face in your neck. Tears were drenching your shirt and you were drenching his too.

You lifted your face up and brought it to his neck. You planted a soft kiss on his neck and just rested your head there. You were both breaking before already and now broken. The distance was holding you both back. Time was punishing and cruel but you both couldn’t do anything about it. A few seconds passed and you finally retreated from Tommy’s hold. You leaned back on the bench and Tom followed too. You took his hand on yours and squeezed it. You closed your eyes and searched for peace at the moment right there. Thomas then rested his head on your shoulder. Your breaths were now steadying and were staring at the horizon.

“I understand that we both have a lot for development. We can focus on ourselves for a while. But I promise you, love, that when I find my rest and have bettered myself as your man, and if God wills it, I will find your eyes again and see home.” Thomas said.

You both missed a lot on each other’s lives. The lack of communication tore both of you apart. Constant worrying over each other tore both of you apart. You both became mentally and physically unhealthy. Thomas loves his career but ending things between us didn’t mean that he didn’t love me too. We’re allowing time pass by as we grow in our own ways.

You rubbed circles around his palms and breathed in deeply. “Thank you, Thomas. For understanding and everything. Thank you for letting me go.”

And so you two watched the sunrise. You smiled sadly at the fact the first time you see the sunrise together on the same side of the world is the last time you probably will too.

reblog and like! hmu if u want someone to rant to about thomas! or if you want to express your opinion on the oneshot ;))

[thatishogwash]

Finding a New Dream

Day 1, October 28 : First Meeting / “wanna play?” / old days AO3

Day 2, October 29 : getting together / "I'm your number one fan" / popcorn AO3

Oikawa is exhausted.  He had just been on a press tour for the past week that ended that night with the release of his new movie.  He loved what he did and he was proud of the work that went into the movie, more than thrilled to see how it all came together in the end, but it didn’t change the fact that he was wiped out.  Even extroverts need some time to themselves and he had very little of it the last couple months due to filming on location.

When Oikawa was twenty his first dream of being able to play at the olympics came crashing down with complications in his joints, specifically his knees.  They had been put through too much pressure and he was already showing signs of arthritis, the bone-on-bone grind of his knee was excruciating but the knowledge that he had worked so hard, had come so far only to have his dream slip right out of his fingers was devastating.

Oikawa knew he was lucky to have the support system he did.  His parents and sister had always been there for him but they never understood his drive to be the best.  They thought he was young and therefore it’d be easy to just pick another career path, even though everything he had worked for up to that point had been for his one dream.  Oikawa Tooru didn’t make backup plans or have second options, it was all in for him.  It always had been.  But there had been three people who understood his dismay at the news, three that rallied around him and let him have his off days.  They let him snark and snap at them, let him wallow in his own self pity, went through the waves of his manic episodes and they bared that until he came out on the other side.

Oikawa’s good looks and flirtatious personality had gained him a small following online and he decided that was what he was going to do.  He worked damn hard to build his following even more, he did everything from showing what he ate in a day to exercise planning.  His followers seemed to really enjoy the small snippets of his life, especially if he showed one of the three friends who had stuck by him.  They liked Hanamaki’s off the wall humor, complimented Matsukawa’s bushy eyebrows, and cooed over any small glimpse of Iwaizumi they managed to get.

Oikawa turned that small bit of internet fame into something else.  He managed to snag small roles on game shows or sitcoms, which got him an eight episode guest spot on a supernatural drama.  He ended up dying horrifically in the end, saving the woman he loved by sacrificing himself and the talk of him having his own spinoff sent twitter into a frenzy.

Eight years later Oikawa’s knee still bothered him when he put too much pressure on it for too long of a time.  He had landed his first starring role in a superhero movie, he could still remember the tears running down his face as his agent called to tell him he got it.  It had been a long time shooting, getting to know everyone on set and showing little snippets of it on his various social media accounts.  He had loved every minute of it.

But he was tired and though he had been surrounded by people, he felt lonely.

Oikawa walked into his apartment, not at all surprised to hear the sound of the TV and Iwaizumi telling someone to shut the hell up.  Oikawa almost laid down right there in the genken in sheer relief but he pushed his nice shoes off, smiling at the old beat up pair of trainers, the leopard print loafers, and the worn boots already there.

The sound of nails on the hardwood floor came at a quick clip to Oikawa before he was nearly bowled over by a big mound of fur and love.  Oikawa cooed at his son, putting the bag of popcorn out of the way before the mutt could forget his love for his dad and tried to eat it.

“My son, my love, the light of my life.”  Oikawa hugged his furry neck, burying his face into the wiry fur as his dog tried to lick his face.

“I’m insulted, I thought I was your son.”  Hanamaki’s voice was a welcome respite from those that had been surrounding him the past couple months.

“I used to be his love.”  Matsukawa’s own tone was devoid of emotion but Oikawa had known him long enough to know he was amused, playing a game with Hanamaki.  Oikawa looked up to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa staring over at Iwaizumi.

“What?”  Iwaizumi snapped once he realized all eyes were on him.

“You’re supposed to say you were the light of his life.”  Hanamaki pulled on Iwaizumi’s cheeks.

When Oikawa’s depression had taken him to a really dark place it was Iwaizumi who suggested he get something to take care of so that he could concentrate on something other than himself.  It was Iwaizumi’s brash way of saying he was worried so Oikawa went out to get a plant to make his childhood friend feel better, but what he found instead was a scared tiny fur ball that had bit his fingers when he pulled it away from the garbage it had been munching on.  It had barely been bigger than his hand, hair matted and one of its ears chewed off.

No one expected that pathetic little thing to last the night, let alone grow into what Oikawa considered the most handsome boy who nearly weighed as much as he did, was missing a ear, and would still eat out of the garbage if no one was around to stop him.  Whenever Oikawa was taken away from home for work he always invited the three to stay over and watch him.

“What are you wearing?”  Oikawa asked, finally realizing they were all wearing identical shirts.  Hanamaki and Matsukawa struck a pose before looking over at Iwaizumi who let out a loud sigh and half heartedly struck the same pose.

“We’re your number one fans!”  Hanamaki and Matsukawa said, Iwaizumi grumbling the words and looking like someone was forcing him to say it at gunpoint.  It was then Oikawa realized that it was his face printed all over the shirts and they were all ugly screengrabs from various videos of him.  One he was midsneeze, another had one of his eyes closed, one worst than the last.

Oikawa missed them terribly.

But they could never know that.

“We tried to get sir poops a lot to wear one but he chewed it to pieces so we had to excommunicate him from the fanclub.”  Hanamaki said, pointing at the dog who saw attention on himself and wagged his tail harder.

“I told you to stop calling him that, he’s going to get a complex.”  Oikawa admonished before standing up, biting back a groan when his body protested being crouched down for so long.  His knee gave a worryingly loud crack and they all looked down as if it was going to pop right off.

“Go get out of that monkey suit, it’s Mattsun’s turn to pick a movie so you’ll most likely fall asleep and then get angry at me in the morning for letting you wrinkle your dyson suit.”  Iwaizumi said.

“Dyson makes vacuums, this is Armani Hajime.”  Oikawa admonished with horror but allowed himself to be pushed off to his bedroom.

Twenty five minutes later found them all on Oikawa’s U-shaped couch.  He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he had purposefully bought the couch so they could all fit comfortably on it.  Iwaizumi was the shortest out of them, a fact that none of them let him forget, yet he was still considered a tall and very muscular man.  It made cuddling up on anything that wasn’t pretty massive a hardship for the four of them.

Oikawa sat in one corner while the other three occupied the other.  Oikawa’s dog, though he really was all of theirs, was curled up on the end next to Oikawa.  Iwaizumi was leaning back in the other corner with Matsukawa pressed against his side, his long legs hooked over Hanamaki’s criss crossed ones.  Hanamaki had found the popcorn Oikawa had brought them from the premiere, he always said it was better than any other kind of popcorn.  Considering Oikawa had to spend a good majority of the movie in spandex and looking like a comic book hero type super hero, he hadn’t eaten anything like popcorn in nearly a year.

The fact the other three fell into a relationship wasn’t a surprise to Oikawa.  They had opened their arms for him, they always had but Oikawa’s career had finally been taking off.  His reputation was more important than ever and he had seen the way some actors and actresses were treated after coming out.  He couldn’t imagine the gossip that would spread if Oikawa Tooru was to come out not only as gay but in a relationship with three other men.

Looking at the other three Oikawa knew it wasn’t like that.  There was nothing but a deep sense of trust and love shared between them.  Even when Oikawa turned them down they never treated him any differently, the door left open for him if he should ever choose to walk through it.

Oikawa could admit he was scared.  He was terrified of having another dream ripped away from him but as he watched Iwaizumi place a soft kiss on the crown of Matsukawa’s head, as Hanamaki used his tongue to grab pieces of popcorn because his hands were busy giving Oikawa’s injured knee a massage, he felt something overcome that fear.

So with a deep breath Oikawa pulled his leg away from Hanamaki, earning a questioning look that turned into something softer, something a bit mischievous as Oikawa shifted closer.  Hanamaki wordlessly opened up his blanket to allow Oikawa to push in close against his side, propped up Matsukawa’s legs before putting them across his own lap.  Iwaizumi gave him an encouraging smile.

Maybe Oikawa’s acting career would come to a crashing stop tomorrow.  It would be another devastating blow but he’d manage to get through it like he had the last time because he had another dream to hold onto and it involved the three men closest to him.

[halfway-happyyy]

Up to Fate

Request: reader meets Bill at a premier for It, He flirts with her, they hit off, she invites him back her place and fluffy sex ensues. Hope you enjoy! 💙

When the chaos inevitably becomes too much, you begin your search for a quieter place to rest before the film starts. You find refuge in a bar tucked into the corner of the building and order a double gin and tonic, two limes on the side. You weren’t exactly sure how you got yourself into this predicament but it definitely had something to do with your brother needing a plus-one to the Hollywood film premier of a movie he had little to no actual involvement in. He had already found your seats but the idea of sitting in a crowded theatre for more than fifteen minutes without anything actually occurring, made your skin crawl.

You’re about to order another cocktail when someone takes the seat next to you, gesturing to the bartender. “A stoli on the rocks and… whatever the lady wants.” You glance to the stranger sitting next to you, wide-eyed. He’s extremely tall and devastatingly handsome.   

Handle this properly, you remind yourself. “While the gesture is a appreciated, I don’t really need you to buy my next drink,”

“A thank you usually suffices in this instance.” He chuckles, sliding your drink over to you. Your cheeks burn hot, and you know that he’s right so you thank him for the gesture.

He’s about to open his mouth to say something else when someone in the distance calls out to him. You watch as he swills back the last of his vodka, slaps a hand on the counter and turns to you. “What would you say if I told you that you were the most beautiful woman here?” 

You take a decent swig of your gin and tonic, and set the almost empty glass down on the wooden counter in front of you. “I’d call you a bloody liar; and I’d tell you that you’re stepping on my dress.”

His gaze travels south, and he let’s an expletive fall from his mouth when he realizes he has indeed been standing on your dress. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, grinning. “Guess it’s a good thing it’s a rental, huh?”

The taller man scratches at the back of his head, smiling brightly at you. “It has been the greatest pleasure to be able to share a quick drink with you this evening.”

“What’s your name?” You shout out after him when you realize you never actually got it in the first place. He turns back on his heel, beaming. “It’s Bill!” 

It’s Bill. 

And that’s all it takes; it’s funny how someone can waltz that easily into your life. You had woken up that morning completely oblivious to what was about to happen and here you are now, halfway through a film about a terrifying demon clown and all you can think of is Bill.   

It’s only at the close of the film that your brother turns to you and says, “I’d like to introduce you to someone.” You’re about to protest; you’ve got plenty of other things to be doing… but alas, your evening is wide open. You watch him stand up and wave to someone in the distance. “Come on!” He whispers excitedly.

You notice the shoes first; taught, shiny leather and as your eyes travel further and finally rest on his face, you can’t help but smile like an idiot. “We meet again.” 

Bill outstretches his hand for you to shake. “Fate has an interesting way of doing that, huh?”

“You guys know each other?” The comfortable silence is punctuated by your brother’s understandable confusion.

“Not really, no. We shared a drink at the bar before the premier.” Your brother nods slowly, the pieces falling together. “The film was incredible by the way,” you offer up to Bill. “Truly. Your acting was impeccable.”

A soft smile breaks across his face and he bows towards you. “Thank you very much. This uh… this film meant a lot for me to do and I almost can’t believe it’s out already. I kind of have to keep pinching myself.”

“Should we head to bar then? Celebrate a little? A few of the crew members are heading to a new spot downtown.” Your brothers tone is hopeful but you don’t think you can bare another few hours in these heels.

“I’m actually going to head to my car but you should definitely go out and have some fun.” You smile, poking him teasingly in the ribs. He’s about to protest, but decides against it and simply nods instead.

“I will walk you out to your car,” Bill offers and you fight to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You watch as he throws a friendly arm around your brother’s shoulder. “Was great seeing you tonight, man. Thanks for showing up to support.”

Goosebumps rise in small patterns on your arms when you enter out into the balmy September evening and it takes only seconds before Bill’s offering up his navy suit jacket to you, which you accept graciously. “You came alone tonight?” You ask, trying to sound as in interested as possible.

Bill shakes his head. “No, I came with my two brothers and their dates. But they left pretty soon after the movie ended.”

“Would you like to come back to mine? I owe you a drink.” You’re at your car; It’s a long shot and probably somewhat inappropriate but you have this particular feeling about Bill that you couldn’t knock even if you tried. “I’d love that.” He grins.

The car ride is uneventful, only broken by periods of small conversation. He’s from Sweden, is the third youngest in a family of eight children, and loves his mother dearly. At one point you can actually feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face and you smile shyly. “You’re just incredibly attractive.” He offers up when you confront him about it. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s dark in the car, the heat in your neck and cheeks is almost too intense.

“This is it,” You murmur once you’ve got the key in the lock and the door open. “Make yourself at home.” You kick off your heels and place them inside the coat closet of your apartment. Bill follows suit behind you, leaving his shoes by the mat at the front door. “What can I make you to drink?” You ask.

Bill shrugs his shoulders. “Anything, really. I’m not too particular with alcohol.” You hang his suit jacket against the back of your kitchen chair and set to work making him a pisco sour. You’re trying in vain to remember the exact recipe when Bill simply says, “Come here.”

You do as you’re told and join him at the window in your living room. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you without hesitation, your arms circle his waist and this is actually happening. He pulls away, kisses just beneath your ear and simply says, “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you sitting at the bar tonight.”

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly. Bill grins at this and kisses you hard again, it’s so intense you’re worried for a second that you’ll pass out. Bill pulls away again though this time it’s to turn you around so that you’re facing the window.

“Lets get this beautiful thing off of you.” His long fingers brush the soft skin of your back as he slowly unzips the dress, pausing every now and then to press his lips to the skin there. You let the pleasant shivers wrack your body. He reaches around to your front to squeeze your breast and you involuntarily moan into the touch. You’re pretty sure you feel him smile into your shoulder, which turns you on even more. He unclasps your bra with near expert skill and slowly pulls your panties down your legs. “So fucking beautiful,” He groans into your neck and you feel weak. He turns you back around again so that you’re facing him, completely stark naked. He kneels down to the ground, slowly kissing down your body as he goes. Your heart is hammering so hard in your chest you’re almost wondering if he can hear it. He stops just above your vagina, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. “Place your leg over my shoulder, baby.” He says softly and again, you do as you’re told. He parts you with ease and begins to lap slowly at your tight, wet core.

“Oh my god,” you moan, throwing your head back a little too hard against the glass window pane. Your fingers find purchase in his hair and you fight the urge to grind yourself against his face. His ministrations are slow and deliberate at first and you’re in danger of coming too soon. You remember that he’s also doing all of this in a three-piece suit and you have to tell yourself to breathe. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you bring a hand to yours to keep from screaming out. It’s a constant pattern; deliberate laps against your folds and then your clit in his mouth. It’s only when his teeth scrape over the sensitive bundle of nerves that you actually do scream out into the air before you.

“You going to come for me baby?” he asks, and all you can do is nod soundlessly. He pulls away to insert two fingers into you and a few more slow, hard licks and you’re coming in overpowering waves against his face. His rides it out with you and places a kiss to your vagina when he’s finished. It’s only when he straightens up that you notice the tent form hard and tight against his trousers. Wordlessly, you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom down the hall.   

You’re both quiet as you set to work undressing him, taking time to marvel at the soft, alabaster skin beneath his shirt. He’s watching you intently, a small smile evident on his face. He pulls down his boxers and moves to the side of your bed, glancing at the drawer next to it. “They’re in there.” You nod and watch, amused as he reaches in, grabs a condom, rips open the foil packaging with his teeth and rolls it on. “I’d like you to ride me.” The confession is so quiet you almost don’t hear it. You swallow hard and watch as he positions himself on your bed, half sitting up, his back rests against your wooden headboard. “Come here, baby.”

You stumble over to him, legs still weak from your previous orgasm. You place both hands on top of his shoulders, one leg on either side of his and sink yourself onto his fully erect penis. “Holy fuck,” Bill gasps, dropping his head to your collarbone. You begin to bounce rhythmically on top of him, letting your head fall back as he begins to hit that one particular spot inside of you. He plants his hands firmly on top of your hips. “So fucking wet,” He groans loudly in pleasure.

“Just for you,” you whisper against the shell of his ear; this alone causes him to involuntarily buck his hips against yours and you cry out in pleasure.

“I need more,” Bill moans, and physically lifts you off of him. You know almost immediately that he wants to do it doggy style so you position yourself on all fours and wait for him to start. He positions himself behind you, placing chaste kisses down the length of your spine. “Here we go,” He murmurs, pushing himself inside of you. His thrusts are slow at first and then they begin to pick up tempo and it’s all you can do to keep from screaming out into thin air. You arch your back for him, and he taps your bottom lightly. “Not going to last much longer like this, y/n.” A few more finite thrusts into you and he’s tumbling over the edge, groaning your name into the damp skin of your back. “Oh my fucking god,” He gasps, pulling out and collapsing into the space next to you. He kisses the back of your head and pulls you into his embrace.

You take a deep breath and let it out, revelling in his touch. “Just so this is clear… I am not in the habit of sleeping with famous Swedish men the first night I meet them.”

Bill presses a soft kiss to your neck. “Just so you and I are clear… you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman there tonight.”

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt18

Word Count: 2524 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

The events in Philadelphia had shaken me enough that I was careful to lock my desk, log off my computer and lock my office door before I left for the gym to meet Natasha. I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and headed out into the warm afternoon sun, stopping for a coffee along the way. When I left the coffee shop, I noticed a creepy black surveillance van outside the shop. I made a mental note to let Fury know I didn’t need to be followed.

I walked through the gym doors and in to pandemonium. Natasha was screaming in Russian at Clint. She had him completely backed into a corner, and while he looked pretty calm on the surface, the muscle in his jaw was ticking and there was a bead of sweat forming at his temple. I did not envy his position at all. I looked around for Phil, and couldn’t see him anywhere. I stepped away from the door, but kept my distance from the two senior agents. I didn’t want to get in between whatever was going to happen there. I bumped into someone coming out of a changeroom and when I glanced over to apologize, I had to bite my cheek to prevent myself from laughing. Phil was holding an ice pack to his jaw, and looked kind of dazed.

“So it went well?” I couldn’t help it. I grinned.

“I was anticipating this one being bad,” he admitted. I pulled the ice pack off and cringed. It was already bruising.

“Do you want some ibuprofen?” I offered. He shook his head.

“I took some before I got here,” he flinched instead of smiling. “I knew it was going to be bad.”

“And you!” Natasha was suddenly in my face. “You knew all along that he hadn’t died?”

“I wasn’t aware that he had actually died until he told me,” I admitted.

“But all this time, you knew?”

“Of course,” I nodded. She was so angry that she didn’t realize that she was being sloppy, but as soon as she threw the punch, I was able to block it, and toss her to the ground. I bit back the feeling of triumph. She was going to come back at me. My last clear thought was that I wished I’d changed on the way to the gym, but I was grateful that women’s jeans had lycra in them. After that, everything I did was instinctive.

Natasha was determined to put me on the ground, and I was blocking a furious attack, losing ground quickly. If nothing else, it was a more realistic training atmosphere. The reality was, I wasn’t ever going to be attacked in a gym, in comfortable clothing. I slipped on the edge of a mat and turned my ankle, letting out a curse. I was done. Natasha took me to the ground and pressed my face into the floor. Clint and Phil pulled her off me before she could actually hurt me. I rolled onto my back, panting. She was glaring at me from a few feet away, Clint standing just to one side of her with his hand on her arm.

“Tasha, she has higher clearance than you do. You can be mad at me, and mad at Phil. Be mad at Tony, he’s known for a while too. Hell, if you want to knee Fury in the balls, I’ll hold him for you. But you can’t be angry with her for doing her fucking job.” Clint’s voice was stern. She pulled away from him and stalked back toward me. I took a defensive stance, waiting for a renewed attack.

“That was easily a level 7 defense, Ellis. You respond better under pressure.” She clapped me on the shoulder and stepped toward Phil. She stared at him, wordlessly, arms crossed.

“I didn’t want to keep it from you, Tasha. Not after what had happened with Clint,” he offered.

“Does Steve know?” She asked. Phil shook his head. “Thor?”

“Unless Sif told him, no. But I asked her not to say anything,” he explained.

“Who is Sif?”

“Another Asgardian. Long story.”

In a heartbeat, Natasha’s demeanour softened, and I saw her eyes fill with tears. She reached out and ran her hand along Phil’s jaw, down his shoulder. And then she stepped closer and drew him into a hug that mirrored the one Clint had given him. It wasn’t nearly as awkward. She stepped away, and the softness was gone from her features as quickly as it had come. She turned back to me.

“There’s nothing I can teach you in a gym, Anna,” she acknowledged, “but we should still be sparring regularly.”

“Whatever you think will help,” I agreed.

“Right now, I think drinks will help.” She managed a laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Another time, Tasha. Annie and I have a meeting to get to,” Phil excused. Natasha raised an eyebrow and huffed out a deep sigh. She took a few steps toward Clint and began muttering in Russian. His eyes narrowed in question, and then he smiled and responded quietly. She spun to face us, and there was a knowing gleam to her eyes.

“Phil, vstrechi ili nagrablennogo vyzov?” She asked. Phil flushed and refused to respond. I decided it was probably a good thing I didn’t speak Russian.

Stark had us meet him at his office near the Pentagon. It was ostentatious, and harkened back to when Stark Industries was the premier arms dealer in the nation. My understanding was that Pepper Potts used the office mostly for green energy lobbying nowadays. At any rate, it was the most secure location we could think of. There was no way Tony Stark was going to allow his company to be infiltrated a second time. He was still burning with embarrassment from when Romanoff had been slipped in as his PA.

There was surprisingly little art on the walls of the office, which emphasized to me exactly how curious Stark had been about the attack on SHIELD. My guess was that every painting in the HR office that he’d ‘loaned’ us had some sort of listening or tracking device embedded in it. I hope he hadn’t ruined that beautiful Van Gogh in my office to do it.

Stark met us in the reception area and ushered us back to a huge office overlooking the city. It was one hell of a view. In the immediate foreground was the Pentagon, and the Potomac River, which was impressive enough, but it was a clear afternoon and dark cerulean sky accented the brilliant white of the Monument on the far side of the river. Mid-river and to the west, the Triskelion rose from Roosevelt Island. From Stark’s office, the damage was unnoticeable. I lingered at the window, staring at tower. It felt menacing and not for the first time in the past weeks, I was uneasy with my position.

“So what have you discovered?” Stark got right to the heart of things.

“A little old lady died to warn us about flying pests,” I snapped. I immediately regretted my tone.

“What Anna is trying to say is that we were investigating and our main lead was murdered,” Phil elaborated on my behalf. I turned away from the window and stalked across the room.

“And we have nothing. Except an empty wasp killer can, and some paperwork from when she was an agent.” I could feel the frustration beginning to build. Phil placed a small canvas bag on Stark’s desk and pulled out the items we’d confiscated from Cecelia Banks’ house. Stark immediately grabbed the aerosol can and shook it. It rattled, just as it had when we were in the kitchen at Mrs. Banks’ house. He fiddled with the can the same way Phil had and had no luck. He flipped it over and looked it over again and put it back on the table. I picked it up and looked at the spray top. It was one of those large cone style spray tops. I think it was supposed to allow for a larger spraying area. I looked at the nozzle and saw a bunch of little hash marks on it. Curious, I ran my fingernail across them, and the nozzle spun and clicked. Like a combination lock. I flipped open Mrs. Banks’ badge and looked for the ID number, and feeling completely like I belonged in some Cold War espionage novel, clicked the nozzle around to each of the numbers on her badge. Nothing happened. I shoved both items away, dejected. Phil picked the can back up and inspected the nozzle. He started twisting the sprayer, like I had, but in a different way than I had. The bottom dropped out of the can, and a thumb drive and small notebook fell onto Stark’s desk.

“Hornet. It was an alphanumeric cypher.” Phil picked up the thumb drive. I reached for the notebook and flipped it open to the first page. It was filled with numbers and letter, but none of it made sense. And even though Phil had figured out the cypher for the lock on the can, he wasn’t a codes guy. I flipped a few more pages, and there was a list of names.

“Do these mean anything to either of you?” I held the book out. Phil glanced at the list and then rubbed his temples.

“Those are the people she exposed. From the HYDRA cell she discovered,” he explained. I flipped a couple pages further, past more random numbers and letters and came to the end of the notes.

“Without a codebreaker, we’re screwed,” I complained. Phil took the book and looked at it.

“Cecelia Banks wasn’t an expert in encryption. This will be an easy cypher. We can probably figure it out,” he wasn’t talking to Tony or me, really. He was thinking aloud. He tucked the notebook into his jacket and then thought better of that, and handed it to me.

“Why –“

“I have the thumb drive. We should keep those things separate,” he dropped the stick into the pocket instead. Stark flipped through the hodge-podge of detritus we’d taken from the drawer. I think we all knew each item had meaning of some sort, but it was hard to understand the relevance of partial grocery list and stick of gum. Particularly because I wasn’t sure whether the dementia diagnosis in her file was real, or a ploy to get her enemies to drop their guard. Stark’s phone buzzed and he checked his messages. He threw himself into his chair and responded to whatever the message was. The phone buzzed again and he made a strangled sound of disgust.

“Let me assure you, I’d rather be here playing super sleuths with you. However, I am needed back in California. Let me know if anything is going on. I can be back here in a matter of hours,” Tony announced. There was concern in his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. He nodded, squaring his jaw.

“Nothing I can’t resolve after five minutes in person,” he admitted.

The black van was outside Stark’s building when we left, and I mentioned it to Phil. He glanced across the street and took in the details before nodding at me to get into Lola. It was going to be hard to be unobtrusive in the car, but I was going try to accept that if Fury had a SHIELD detail watching me, it was for a good enough reason that I didn’t want to blend in anyhow. But the van was creepy. It hung back about six or seven car lengths and pulled in to a conspicuously vacant parking spot at the end of my block that had a clear view of my front door. I wondered if they had someone on the back door of the building too. Phil pulled into the underground parking and maneuvered Lola into my spot. It was the nicest vehicle that had ever parked there, and I couldn’t help but think about my poor squished car.

“You look exhausted Annie,” he observed. I closed my eyes. I was exhausted. I could easily fall asleep standing, I felt so tired.

“I slept so much last night,” I protested.

“The adrenaline of the last few days is draining. Particularly if you aren’t used to it.” He held out a hand to assist me from the car.

“You seem fine,” I complained. He directed me to the stairs and herded me toward my apartment.

“I’ve been doing this for close to thirty years.”

My apartment was just as I left it, dirty dishes in the sink and all. It was instant comfort. I flopped onto the couch and propped my feet on the coffee table. I could hear Phil rummaging in the kitchen, and the water turned on. He let it run for a while, and then there was splashing.

“You don’t need to wash my dishes, babe,” I called from the couch. He peered around the corner at me.

“I’m not. I’m setting your clothes to soak so the blood comes out,” he explained. I rose and walked into the kitchen to observe. He had tracked down a bottle of peroxide from the bathroom and was dripping it onto the bloodstains in my blouse, letting it foam a little and then dunking it under the water. Then he would repeat the whole process until the stain was mostly lifted and move on to another one. He added a capful of peroxide to the water and swished everything around. I slid a hand along his arm as it came out of the water, and stepped closer. He turned away from the sink and brought his free arm around me. I traced my fingers along his jaw, and saying nothing, leaned into him.

“Not sure what I did to deserve someone as unreservedly good as you are, Phil,” I murmured. He squeezed me and kissed the side of my head.

“Maybe like attracts like.” His voice was softer and rougher than usual. There was a tightness in my chest that felt foreign. Not wrong, just very different. Again, I found myself wanting to tell him I loved him. But it was too soon, I thought, uncertainly. I leaned back in his arms to look at him. He always looked on me with a softness that made his strong features somehow warmer.

“I really like you,” I blurted awkwardly. He smiled and shook his head.

“You’ve said that before,” he reminded me.

“I like you more now,” I clarified. He tipped his head and kissed me.

“I have to check in with my team. It might be a couple days before I can see you,” he ran a hand through my hair. I nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him.

“Just promise you’ll let me know if you aren’t,” he pressed. I nodded. He let go of me reluctantly, and headed toward the door. As he pulled the door open he turned back to face me again.

“Annie?” He paused, “I like you more now too.”

[kiscon]

KiScon 2017 Update #5

Just over 50 days to go! Woohoo!  (Also: Yikes!)  We’ve had a flurry of sign-ups in the last couple of weeks from attendees wanting to get in before the final discount ended on the membership fee. A reminder to any of you who knows someone who’s thinking of signing up, the KiScon registration cut-off is Friday August 11th. We cannot accept new members or upgrades after this date. This is because we need to give the hotel the final catering numbers and to allow us to make final plans.

Over 50 members voted on their preferred panels – thanks for taking time out to do that. Voting is now closed and we've put together a draft schedule.  Once finalized, we’ll give you details on how to access it when we send out update #6.

Star Trek Las Vegas

Are you attending the Star Trek Las Vegas convention on August 2-6? If you will be there and might be interested in a K/S meetup, please let us know by emailing us at kiscon2017@gmail.com!

Convention Schedule

Thank you to everyone who voted on the program items for the convention!  If you volunteered to moderate any panels, you should have heard from us with a draft schedule.  If you have not received an email from us, please get in touch! If you're not able to run the panels we scheduled for you, please let us know by July 31st.

Special Panel Announcement

We’re pleased that Dr. Lucy Neville (aka Pouxin) will join us via Skype from Barcelona on Saturday morning, giving us an update on her project looking at women and m/m erotica (with a focus on explicit m/m slash).

Science in the Movies

By popular demand, Rhaegal will be repeating her "Science in the Movies" talk from Shore Leave during the Dead Le Matya Party on the Sunday of the convention, at 4.30pm. If you want to catch this talk, please make your travel arrangements accordingly.

Goodie bags

Are you planning to donate items to the ‘goodie bags’ that attending members will receive?  If yes, can you get in touch and let us know at kiscon2017@gmail.com.  We’ll be able to give you the final number after the August cut-off.

Raffle

We will be holding a raffle, with tickets available throughout the weekend, with proceeds going to the con charity (to be voted on by members at the Opening Ceremony).  If you’d like to donate items to the con raffle, please get in touch to let us know.  Ideal raffle prizes include Trek-related memorabilia, licensed collectables, posters/photos, handcrafts/jewelry, etc.  Any K/S-related art donations will likely go into the art auction: https://www.kiscon.org/art.php

Dealers, Bring and Buy, Sell-4-U

Dealers will be located in the Rec Room and you can operate according to your own timetable. If you’d like to register as a dealer, please email us and we’ll provide you with a table.

Bring & Buy sessions will be scheduled several times throughout the weekend for those of you who have a number of items to sell at the con, but also want to attend most of the panels.

Sell-4-U is for those of you who have only one or two items to sell.  We’ll have one table for them all at each of the Bring & Buys, and as long as they’re correctly labelled with your name, and priced, one our volunteers will take care of transactions on your behalf.

Hotel rooms

We’ve been advised by the hotel that they have no more double rooms.  If you haven’t already booked your hotel room, please don’t delay.  Remember to book through the KiScon website to get the con rate.  If you have any difficulties booking your room, please let us know.

Art show and auction update from Liz

Can you believe it?  KiScon is around the corner and although we have a nice art show already, I'm greedy and want more art!

Looking at your current Kirk/Spock art and want some new pieces, but don't know what to do with the old ones?

Have you down-sized and your favorite pieces are now in storage?  (I know that feeling!)

Did you move onto another fandom (gasp!) but still have a fondness for K/S so you continue to come to the cons (as you should, remember at heart you are a Trek person), but need wall space for the others?

Then think about giving them a new home with a new fan who would love them as much as you have over the years. Bring it to KiScon! You can sell your old favorites and get some spending money, or donate your proceeds to the con charity.

All art MUST be in good condition; think if it's in the condition YOU would want it to be in if you were purchasing it to hang on your wall.  While they don't need to be framed, matted would be nice and if possible shrink wrapped, basically, it needs to be clean, unwrinkled (no bent corners), and protected.

The control sheet can be found on our website (https://www.kiscon.org/art.php), I ask that you fill it out before submitting your art to the artshow.  Leave the control code empty, I will assign that.

See you September 15th!

Vid show update from Lari

Amok Time Reloaded – the KiScon vid competition is happening!  The con is taking place to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the airing of Amok Time – an episode that blessed us with footage of epic proportions and can be found in so many K/S vids already that it ranks easily among the most recognizable and even over-vidded scenes.

And this is where our competition comes into play:

We want you, dear vidder, to take this over-vidded footage and/or its tropes, and remix and transform them to your heart’s content.

A prize will be offered for the winning Amok Time Reloaded entry, as decided by the attending convention members. And don't forget our regular vidshows are also taking place and awaiting your submissions! For complete rules and technical instructions, see our vid show page at https://www.kiscon.org/vid.php or contact @larissabernstein​.

We are still accepting submissions to our vid shows - premieres, older stuff, everything!!! Send in your fanworks and help make the shows as awesome as possible!!  We are especially hoping for more entries to our Amok Time Reloaded competition! Scare us, surprise us, make us laugh or cry!

Deadline for vid submission (preferably by Dropbox or similar download link): 15 Aug 2017. We cannot accept submissions at the convention.

Social media

Our website: http://kiscon2017.org/index.php Tumblr:  http://kiscon-blog.tumblr.com LiveJournal: http://kiscon.livejournal.com Also: http://kirkspock.livejournal.com Yahoo Groups: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/KiScon2017/info Also: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/KirkSpockCentral/info?adult=true Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1698651643726889/

LL&P

Rhaegal & Amanda KiScon co-chairs

[chocolate-brownies]

Sarah Tiefenthaler is a seasoned SUP yoga teacher and the founder of YOGAqua, LA’s premier Stand Up Paddleboard Yoga studio operated out of Mothers Beach in Marina Del Rey. She’s also one of our favorite Wanderlust Festival teachers, who will be leading the first-ever SUP Yoga Teacher Training at Wanderlust O’ahu this March. For Sarah, the ocean is her studio. 

For tickets to Wanderlust O’ahu, click here. To sign up and learn more about the training, click here.

Read on for more information about just what a SUP Yoga Teacher Training is, and why you want to consider it. 

Wanderlust (WL): Why do a SUP Yoga Teacher Training?

Sarah Tiefenthaler (ST): There are many reasons one may decide to complete a SUP Yoga TT. Most often people participate because they already feel passionate about practicing yoga on the water. Whether they are interested in going on to teach or simply to experience four full days on the water learning more about something they love. There are also those who are already yoga teachers and want to expand there skills by learning how to create their yoga practice on a floating surface.

WL: What’s the difference between a SUP Yoga TT and a mat-based one? Aren’t the basic principles the same?

ST: These are entirely different courses. During the first day of SUP Yoga Teacher Training, participants earn their World Paddle Association Level 1 Certification which covers SUP equipment, harbor laws, water safety, water rescue, towing (yes, towing), paddle technique, and are even CPR and AED certified. There is so much more to teaching yoga on a floating surface in nature. Mother Nature is unpredictable. You are in her home when you are on the water and the safety of your students is in your hands therefore we have to very thoroughly navigate through all the potential scenarios one may experience and how to properly handle them.

Once we’ve covered safety, there is anchoring. Anchoring a class of 10 students or more is not as easy as it sounds. The conditions of the water and weather effect this greatly-where you’re anchoring your classes effects this greatly. Some SUP Yoga classes are held on the ocean but some may be in a lake, river or even a swimming pool. Anchoring changes for each of these environments. Wanderlust, in particular, has a very unique anchoring set-up.

And of course there is also the topic of customizing yoga poses for the board. If you ask beginner level students to come into the perfect yoga alignment on day one, you will have your entire class swimming. You have to learn how to build the poses up before you get them to that level.

WL: I’m already a certified teacher. How could I benefit from a SUP Yoga TT, even if I don’t plan on teaching?

ST: You will learn how to navigate safely on any body of water with efficient paddle skills, you will be knowledgeable to teach someone how to paddle, you will be prepared to rescue someone from drowning and administer CPR. Whether you go on to teach SUP Yoga, these are all incredibly valuable skills.

WL: What can being on the water teach us about being in the flow?

ST: As mentioned before, Mother Nature is unpredictable. You may have the perfect Vinyasa Flow prepared for your class one day and then find that the conditions of the water are too rough due to wind so therefore you have no choice but to teach a Slow Restorative Flow. The point is, you have no choice but to “go with the flow”. You have to work with whatever Nature offers you and you must learn how to enjoy it’s unpredictability. Once that happens, you begin to apply it to life. When you stop resisting Nature, you stop resisting Life and all it’s wonderful challenges-instead you learn how to “ride the wave”.

WL: What is the most valuable lesson you’ve taken off your board and into the world?

ST: Every time I’m on the water, everything about the experience feels different. Sometimes the water is a beautiful glass that looks as if I can literally walk across it and sometimes the wind and current has it moving like a river beneath me. One day the sun shines through the clouds in the most magical, shimmery way and other times it is blocked out by the marine layer. What I have learned is not to create expectations all the time. Let life offer you little surprises and find the humor in it, find the magic and experience it for all it’s beauty.

—

Sarah Tiefenthaler is the owner and founder of “YOGAqua”. In addition to being a Presenter at Wanderlust, she is also the SUP Program Coordinator for all four day festivals. Sarah completed her first 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training in the tropical jungles of Costa Rica where she focused intensely on the philosophy of Yoga as well as meditation practices. When she returned to Los Angeles, she completed her second 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training certification in Hollywood, CA at Earth’s Power Yoga where she was able to expand her knowledge of human anatomy and alignment in relation to Yoga.

1

The post Why You Should Do a SUP Yoga Teacher Training appeared first on Wanderlust.

[aion-rsa]

How UFC 4 Is Changing the Way We Play MMA Games

https://ift.tt/3gc11Rp

For the UFC, there is no season. Fights happen year round for the world’s premier mixed martial arts promotion. So, unlike annualized franchises such as Madden, EA Sports’ UFC franchise isn’t beholden to the same yearly release structure.

But even for the UFC series, the two-and-a-half-year gap between UFC 3 and the upcoming UFC 4, slated for an Aug. 14 release on PlayStation 4 and Xbox One, is a long time. Even the transition between the former THQ-published UFC Undisputed franchise and the first EA Sports UFC in 2014 wasn’t quite as long.

Rest assured, creative director Brian Hayes and his team have used the time to make major changes to some of the more maligned gameplay systems from previous iterations of the series. Every element of the octagon action has been either tweaked or overhauled. 

Perhaps no system has been as obtuse for the greatest number of UFC players over the years than the ground game. Grappling and submissions are integral to the sport of MMA, so real fighters who can’t tell a kimura from an omoplata probably won’t make it far in the sport. UFC 4 won’t be issuing quizzes on the difference between Brazilian jiu-jitsu shoulder locks, but it has made dramatic changes to the way fights on the floor are contested. Two new submission mini-games replace the former system, which utilized a battle over “break walls” using the left and right analog sticks.

“They’re different in a very subtle way,” Hayes tells Den of Geek, referring to the two new submission mini-games. “The basic premise is the same. If you’re in a submission game, and you’re on defense, you have a colored wedge, and your opponent has a colored wedge. Their goal is to keep their wedge on top of yours. In the choke submission game, it’s played on a full circle. In the joint submission game, it’s played on an arc. The control for the choke is with a stick, and the controls for the arc are with triggers.”

You can see how the new submission system, and some of the other gameplay improvements, work in the video below:

Conventional wisdom might suggest players on defense rapidly move their wedge around to escape the hold. Not so, says Hayes. Instead, he says precision control of the defending player’s wedge is critical to staying out of trouble and keeping the wedge from getting too big. He compares the idea to real-life grappling situations, where keeping a cool head and mounting a technical defense often makes the difference between a successful submission defense or a brual tap-or-snap situation.

“The reason that sort of nuance comes in there is we thought of that in terms of, if you’re training in an actual gym and you get into a dangerous situation like a submission, pretty sure that your coach never tells you, ‘OK, freak out now. Just panic. Just flail away as quickly as you can,'” Hayes says. “They’re gonna tell you, no, be calm, focus on your technique, do the right things to get out of this position.”

A few new wrinkles were added to the submission battles in UFC 4 beyond the mini-games themselves. Attackers can now mix in strikes to soften up their opponent, while those on defense might be able to execute slams to get out of certain holds in less technical, more strength-based ways. Outside of the sub attempts, navigating transitions on the mat has been simplified as well with more basic left-stick inputs to execute actions such as standing up, advancing positions, or posturing up for heavy ground-and-pound.

Of course, every UFC fight begins in an upright position, and some will never hit the canvas unless a fighter is put there by a heavy strike or two. For UFC 3, the striking system was overhauled using the same Real Player Motion Tech featured in EA Sports’ FIFA and NHL franchises, among others, in an effort to create a more locomotion-driven striking system. That RPM Tech has now been applied to a completely new system for the clinch game and takedowns.

Gone is the old system of clinch transitions, which worked the same as the grappling dynamic of holding the right stick in a direction to change positions with a HUD as a guide. Now, players enter the clinch with a simple strike input and a modifier, and transitions are executed the same way. Striking controls will work the same way in the clinch as they do from distance, with uppercuts, knees, and more available to throw. Staying in the clinch is as simple as moving toward your opponent, while exiting means moving away.

“Maintaining the clinch or getting out of the clinch is simpler than it’s ever been because it’s actually an intuitive, ‘Well, I don’t want to be here, so I’ll just walk away,’” Hayes says. “It doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

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If the changes to the clinch, takedown, and submission systems are best described as a revolution, then consider the differences between striking in UFC 3 and UFC 4 as more evolutionary. Rather than rewriting the script of punches, kicks, knees, and elbows from scratch, EA Sports just wants to make the execution of many of these strikes less clunky than before. In UFC 4, tapping one of the primary strike buttons executes a different strike than holding that same button — the hold mechanic being new to the series. Hayes says this was done to reduce the execution of certain advanced strikes from five or six simultaneous inputs to three or four.

“That was because the multitude of different strikes fighters in the UFC can throw requires such a great deal of real estate on a controller that only has so many inputs,” Hayes says. He notes that the bulk of the striking should feel similar to those already comfortable with and skilled in the striking from UFC 3. The adjustment will come in how attacks such as spinning strikes or roundhouse kicks are performed.

A byproduct of this shift away from so many concurrent inputs is improved responsiveness. Hayes says that every strike in the game is now one to two frames more responsive than in the past. 

“We managed to eliminate some input latency where, previously, we had to wait to be sure we knew what you were doing, and now we don’t,” Hayes says. “There should be an increase in responsiveness with every single strike that you can throw in the game. …. It should get to your opponent’s face a little bit faster than it did previously.”

As much as the gameplay has changed, its console home won’t be any different. EA currently has no current plans to release UFC 4 for the upcoming PlayStation 5 or Xbox Series X. No talk of a PC or Switch version, either.

“We’ve been building this product for the last two years,” says producer Nate McDonald, who, like Hayes, has been a part of the UFC series since it began. “The focus has been heavily on the Gen 4, PS4, Xbox One title because we want to make the best experience we possibly can with this particular product. We are exploring opportunities on Gen 5 and what that could potentially mean, but we don’t have any specifics to share at this point in time.”

We’ll keep you updated as we learn more about UFC 4 closer to launch.

The post How UFC 4 Is Changing the Way We Play MMA Games appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30aMVuc

[kerahlekung]

Kelam-kabut PH bila Dr.M dok gila nak jadi PM lagi...

Kelam-kabut PH bila Dr.M dok gila nak jadi PM lagi....

Nak bg anak dia jd TPM, takmau. Offer Menteri Mentor dia tolak. Punya gila nak jd PM. Peliknya "anai-anai" dok caci dan tuduh Anwar gila nak jd PM?  Yg makin parah, kita boleh nampak byk ekoq jugak "anai-anai" makhluk perosak yg dok ambik kesempatan, sokong Mat-Eng dan Org Tua tu lalu dok kipas api dan simbah petrol. Akibatnya jadi pertelingkahan sesama Penyokong PH. So Mat-Eng tolonglah... - f/bk

Story kat sini...

Kekai pembangkang atau ambik semula gomen?...

PKR Tak Percayakan Tun Lagi? ...

1. Parti dia baru setahun jagung tp tanpa malu kat PKR, DAP dan Amanah dok mintak bertanding terbanyak sampai 52 kerusi. Kita bagi walaupun menang cuma 13 kerusi. Tak per, kita mengalah. 2. Walaupun menang kedua tercorot, Kita bagi kat dia jawatan PM pasai dah janji. Agong offer kat kita,kita terus pegang janji. Tak pah, kita mengalah jugak 3. Kita bagi senarai nama MP untuk jadi Menteri dan Timbalan mengikut komposisi parti yg menang PRU14, dia tak ikut. Dia ikut kepala sendiri. Tak pah, kita mengalah lagi. 4. Janji setahun saja. Lepas tu 2 tahun. Lepas tu hingga hujung tahun. Kemudian lepas APEC. Terakhir, kita bagi dia tentukan sendiri bila tarikhnya. Tak pah, kita terus mengalah. 5. Dah letak jawatan, kita ajak mesyuarat sebab nak lantik dia semula. Dia lari. Kita cari kat rumah. Ajak mesyuarat, nangis² drama swasta, mesyuarat tetap tak mau datang. Kita teruskan demi mandat rakyat. Bila dah nak jumpa Agong, tetiba dia datang. Kita bagi peluang dia jadi lagi walaupun asalnya dia dah macam tak kisah. Tak pah, kita mengalah lagi. 6. Lepas 5 kali mengalah, kita masih nak terus mengalah lagikah? Hangpa pikiaq mai!! Tu kalah namanya. Tanya diri sendiri, jika kita berhadapan situasi sebegini, secara akal yang waras yang Allah berikan, adakah kita masih mahu mengalah?  7. Ini untuk kebaikan bersama. Biar kekal pembangkang. Kita hadap PRU15 dengan DSAI sebagai calon PM kita. Tiada PPBM. Hanya PKR, DAP dan Amanah. Warisan dan parti2 Sarawak tu kita KIV. Pendirian flip flop. Insya Allah PH menang. - Dr Ariff Kadir Al-Katami

Speaking to CNA's Melissa Goh in an exclusive interview, Mr Anwar also conceded that 

a snap election may be called before the opposition manages to unseat the current government. 

Anwar rejects 6-month transition as unworkable, 

but open to Dr M as minister mentor...

PKR president Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim said he would not accept Pakatan Harapan’s proposal for him to succeed Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad as prime minister after six months as the arrangement would come at a heavy cost to the country. In an interview with Channel News Asia, the federal Opposition leader said the short transition would mean at least half a year of uncertainty over matters such as the permanence of the Cabinet and policies introduced. “You have six months when you are not able to focus on reforms and the economy,” Anwar said emphatically. When the interviewer asked him if there was any way he would consider working with Dr Mahathir as the latter’s deputy, Anwar pointed out there have already been two Mahathir administrations. Anwar expressed his belief that Malaysia needed to move on at this point and that Malaysians as a whole deserved “something better” after being plunged into disillusionment with the country’s politics. “It is not a question of personalities, but a question of an opportunity to begin anew; a fresh start.” Despite his insistence that Dr Mahathir should not return as the prime minister for a third time, Anwar said he was not opposed to an advisory role for the former, possibly in the shape of senior minister or minister mentor as was practised in Singapore when Lee Kuan Yew stepped down.

PH and its allies in the grouping dubbed “Pakatan Plus” are deadlocked over their choice of candidate to be prime minister, with PKR adamant that it would only accept Anwar while the rest continue pushing Dr Mahathir as an interim compromise Yesterday, DAP and Amanah sought to convince Anwar and his party to accept the deal by saying the agreed transition and timeline would be formalised in a written agreement. Anwar’s reluctance may stem from Dr Mahathir’s previous term as the prime minister, when the latter repeatedly delayed his promise to relinquish the post to his former deputy by simply insisting he would honour the pledge eventually. Lawyers also told Malay Mail yesterday that they did not believe such an agreement would have any effect in law as the matter of prime minister’ appointment and resignation was already codified in the Federal Constitution. Dr Mahathir resigned as the prime minister in February to trigger the collapse of the PH administration, which then allowed Perikatan Nasional to seize control of the federal government unelected. Since then, however, he has mounted a campaign to be reappointed in the position. Prime Minister Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin is also rumoured to be considering an early general election both to secure his personal mandate and to dispel views that his administration was a “backdoor” government.. - Justin Ong

Dr M issues ultimatum to end ties with 

PKR, willing to explore other options...

Dr Mahathir Mohamad is prepared to end his working relationship with PKR if it continues to oppose his candidature for the prime minister post. In an exclusive interview with Sin Chew Daily, the nonagenarian said he would stop collaborating with PKR president Anwar Ibrahim if the impasse is not resolved and explore other means to become prime minister for the third time. However, Mahathir said he would continue to work with DAP and Amanah since the two parties supported him for the top post. “I won’t cooperate with him (Anwar) anymore because he does not want to work with me. I need to find other ways to become PM. There might be some other ways,” he said. Malaysiakini contacted Mahathir's aide for clarification if this meant the former premier has decided to shut the door on PKR. However, the aide said this was more of an "ultimatum" should Anwar and PKR continue to remain adamant.

The aide also said Mahathir meant he would explore other avenues to "bring down the backdoor government". If the option for him to become prime minister for six months before passing the baton to Anwar falls through, Mahathir said he was willing to leave the informal alliance of Pakatan Harapan Plus. “No, I think I will quit,” he said. Elaborating, he recalled how Pakatan Harapan and its predecessor Pakatan Rakyat had failed to form the government before he and Bersatu joined forces with them. “They have been in the opposition for so long. Before I joined them, in 2008 and 2013, they tried to win but they lost. They couldn't win. “I joined them in GE14, and with enough Malay support, we won. “They were very clear, they needed Malay votes to win and thought I could bring them Malay votes because Bersatu is a Malay party, and the Malays won’t support multiracial parties,” he said. - mk

More importantly, Dr.M fuckup Pakatan Harapan bigtime to allow Muhyiddin and Azmin to hijack the government in mid-term. Not Dr. Mahathir this time. Anwar Ibrahim is correct. In 6 months a PM can't achieve anything. Last government under Tun Mahathir took 22 months in governance. He couldn't deliver in 22 months. Is he "David Copperfield" to do magic in 6 months? Malaysians need fresh start.- TS PH would be the government of the day today had Mahathir not resigned as PM. The political reality is this, it is almost near impossible to unseat a sitting PM. Mahathir resigned because he wanted to kick out the PH government as he had support from Umno, Pas, Azmin cartel & his own Bersatu to form another Malay based govt. Soon after he resigned he wanted to be PM of a Unity govt. Today he wanted to be PM of PH plus & hoping PKR to support him, the very parry he backstabbed.This old man is evil..- Ramli Mohamad  He should just accept as a mentor minister like LKY.Time to push Mukhriz ke depan bersama2 pemimpin2 muda PH tapi dia tolak. If sekarang pun dia boleh dump PKR just pasai tak align dengan what he wants,do you think  he can handover to Anwar after 6 months?? - Barak Mahathir lost THREE by-elections. He has literally no party. His own party is working with UMNO.Mahathir is incredibly weak. Amanah likely has a better chance at Malay seats than Mahathir's failed politics, frankly, and that's saying something! - IndigoJaguar7545 Dr M should not claim all the credit for the results of GE14. I think more credit is due to Sarawak Report, The Edge, MalaysiaKini and other social media for publicizing the 1MDB scandal and other abuses of power. It was the rakyats' anger that led to the fall of BN. There was no 1MDB scandal in 2008 and 2013. - Blurcarp9264 He is hoping to cut PKR from PH.With DAP and AMANAH, and GPS and Warisan as well as some from Bersatu Nd maybe some from UMNO he may have enough support to be PM. DAP and AMANAH should now come out to say they will no longer support him..I have said many times he is still thinking of a unity govt. - White Mamba With 5 MPs and no party Dr M is in no position to give ultimatums. He cannot claim to represent the Malays because the 3 Malay based parties are in PN. Even PKR and Amanah have more Malay MPs than him and are more capable of representing the Malays than him. - Cynical  If he ever think from the point of Rakyat for just one second, he would not insist to be the PM, but rather work together harmoniously to save the country. - Michelle Low 

cheers.

Sumber asal: Kelam-kabut PH bila Dr.M dok gila nak jadi PM lagi... Baca selebihnya di Kelam-kabut PH bila Dr.M dok gila nak jadi PM lagi...

[torentialtribute]

Paul Pogba is latest example of what is crippling Manchester United 

In any case, nobody will have to ask Jesse Lingard and Marcus Rashford where they went on vacation when Manchester The players from United return for pre-season training. You don't have to waste time on courtesies.

Only one picture of the residence and Liverpool and we all know that this will take a while. Lingard and Rashford enjoyed staying with Miami fans and the rest of us for a while in Miami Beach. When Lingard decided to give us a video tour of the apartment that the players had shared on their journey, I wandered into a room and caught his friend Jamal Branker face down and a pillow around.

Branker & # 39; s name may end up in United legend as rhyming jargon, but the sight of him trying to have sex with an empty bed seemed the perfect analogy for a club that revolves in its impotence while the conquests are made elsewhere. At United the good times have disappeared. The only things left are a few wrinkled sheets and an urgent need to get the cleaners inside.

<img id = "i-4fcbba8572678d1e" src = "https://dailym.ai/2L8OK3v Paul_Pogba_has_asked_to_leave_Manchester_United_this_summer_with-a-6_1561236404354.jpg "height =" 792 "width =" 634 "alt =" Paul Pogba has asked to leave Manchester United this summer, with the club paralyzed "class =" blkBorder img-share "Manchester United this summer , with the club paralyzed "

Paul Pogba has asked to leave Manchester United this summer, with the club paralyzed

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It showed Jamal Branker,

It showed Jamal Branker, face down and rotating with a pillow The Snapchat video of Lingard showed Jamal Branker, face down and spinning around with a pillow

It has been six seasons since Manchester United won the Premier League but with the signing of Daniel James and the approaching one arrival of Aaron Wan-Bissaka, it was another summer of drift, procrastination and dissatisfaction at a club that was 11 dominant in English football.

The club has become the Premier League equivalent of a giant lumberjack, chewing the reputations of players and managers, devouring mountains of banknotes and leaving a few piles of sawdust to show it. The failure of executive vice-president Ed Woodward to appoint a football director in the summer is yet another sign of a club gripped by stasis and incompetence.

The harsh truth is that United is now away from reclaiming hegemony enjoyed under Sir Alex Ferguson than they have ever been. In their search for the rediscovery of the glories of the past, they went back to the first. This is the largest club in England, stuck in one year after another.

<img id = "i-a29ed57878563e28" src = "https://dailym.ai/2L8OKAx image-m-13_1561229257592.jpg "height =" 610 "width =" 634 "alt =" Manchester United, the largest club in England, is stuck in one year after another "class =" blkBorder img-share ", sitting stuck in one year after another "

Manchester United, the largest club in England, are stuck in one year zero after another

It has come to the point that it is difficult to to see the release of the cycle of despair they have fallen in. Once their dominance seemed so free and effortless, but now the club has become a soap for actors who seem to believe they belong to a better show.

The cycle is as follows: United cannot qualify for the Champions League and so it is difficult to attract the best players in the world, the only elite players they consider are the ones they come for the money. Those aren't the kind of characters you build a title-winning team around, United finds out. So they leave and the cycle keeps turning.

Paul Pogba wants to leave this summer. Pogba is a brilliant midfielder, a player with vision and drive and grace, a star who played a crucial role in France that won the World Cup in Russia last year. And yet he has only shown fleeting glimpses of his talent at United. And now he seems tired of getting out of the swamp of mediocrity around him.

<img id = "i-7a77a29a4c4af8a5" src = "https://dailym.ai/2IyLBZ2 image-a-6_1561228766099.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Paul Pogba wants to leave and has shown only fleeting glimpses of his talent in Old Trafford [1] [2] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [8] [8] [9] [10]

& # 39; After this season and everything happened this season with my season as my best season too … I think it would be a good time to have a new challenge somewhere else.

So instead of United being able to concentrate on trying to close the gaping gap between exist, I think of this: to have a new challenge somewhere else, and City, Liverpool and Spurs, it seems as if Pogba & # 39; s desire to free himself from Old Trafford is the saga that the summer pastor ert. Real Madrid wants him. Maybe Juventus does that too. Both can of course offer Champions League football.

United says that Pogba is not for sale, but that they should get a premium price for him and let him go. They must restart. Not the same anymore. The formula they use does not work. It's not like they were close to City of Liverpool last season: they were 32 points behind City. They ended as close to the relegation zone as possible to the title.

<img id = "i-ac03cf47d2a5a07e" src = "https: //i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/06/22/19/15125498-0-image-a-5_1561228635723.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Pogba was part of last season's edition and if he wants to leave, he will not be part of the solution "

Pogba was part of the last issue of the season and if he wants to leave he will not being part of the solution

Pogba was part of that problem. If he wants to leave, it is clear that he will not be part of the solution. It is only the latest example of the difference between perception and reality that paralyzes United. They may still have commercial potential, but their reputation is declining in the field. Why would one of & # 39; the world's leading young players now want to move to Old Trafford?

They continue to be connected with Matthijs van Ligt, the 19-year-old prodigy of Ajax. Perhaps one should applaud their ambition, but is it ambition or self-deception? Why would a player like De Ligt United choose Real Madrid or Juventus?

Mats Hummels has just kicked them back in favor of a move to Borussia Dortmund, although United offered him more money. So even the money has stopped talking. Wan-Bissaka and James are at least a step in the right direction, talented, hungry young players who desperately want to prove themselves at Old Trafford.

Mats Hummels refused United to move to Borussia Dortmund despite the money supply "

go to Borussia Dortmund despite the money being offered"

Mats Hummels refused United to go to Borussia Dortmund despite the money offered

Gary Neville said last week that it would not be possible that United would become champion for the next two years. Afterwards There are so many changes that must be made at United, from the top of the club to the bottom, that it can take considerably longer before they are able to challenge the title again.

The inventory is daunting: owners who appear to be asset-stripping the club; an executive vice-president who is out of his depth; a philosophy that gives priority to earning money over glory; a stadium that looks dying and tired compared to the new developments at Spurs and Anfield; a team full of deadwood and everyday life; players who do not want to be there; other players who are extremely satisfied with themselves for whom they have never won a great honor.

Manchester United, the club that claims to have sex in an empty bed, has a long way to go before the good times are back.

<img id = "i-b7bf449cf0741700" src = "https://dailym.ai/2L8eCN2 image-a-3_1561228536230.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Gary Neville said recently that it would be impossible for United to win the title for two seasons "it would be impossible for United to win the title to win for two seasons "

Gary Neville said recently that it would be impossible for United to win the title for two seasons

Andy Murray will still be the largest draw on Wimbledon, although he only plays in doubles.

It will be a very long time before we can bring ourselves to let him go.

Two moments stood out during England's victory over Japan during the Women & # 39; s World C up on Wednesday. The first was Karen Bardsley's fingertip, except for Kumi Yokoyama's pushing free kick to the bar in the Allianz Riviera stadium. The second was Ayaka Yamashita's acrobatic one-handed reflex to deny Rachel Daly at the other end.

The quality of goalkeeping during the tournament has done two things: it has rammed all movements of female goalkeepers over everyone's back. and has suggested that FIFA should make the goals for the ladies game smaller than the nonsense it is.

<img id = "i-25a6cb478072da27" src = "https://dailym.ai/2ID5YVj image-a-2_1561228346470.jpg "height =" 484 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-25a6cb478072da27" src = "https://dailym.ai/2WgE5KP /22/19/15125420-0-image-a-2_1561228346470.jpg "height =" 484 "width =" 634 "alt =" The rescue of Karen Bardsley was one of the striking moments of England's victory over Japan "striking moments of England's victory over Japan "

The rescue of Karen Bardsley was one of the striking moments of England's victory over Japan

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